August 8, 2016
Tonight, there was a dinner for almost a hundred hosted by my uncle at a temple to celebrate a certain festival. The most popular dish for dinners like this is usually dal-bati-churma, which is:
We were all seated in neat rows, crisscross-applesauce, eating with our hands on steel plates, with homemade dal, bati, and churma on them. Right next to us was a small lawn on which children were running after one another. It was quite dark, but faintly lit by the few lights that stood.
I was nearly done with my dinner, along with my many cousins that I had come along with, when I felt a water droplet plop onto my shoulder. I thought that it may have just been some dew from the tree above me, but then it occurred to me that there was no tree above me. It was raining! Rather than doing the reasonable thing, my cousins and I fled onto the wet grass lawn, barefoot, racing along with the cool breeze that had arrived with the rain. The wet grass felt soothing on the soles of my feet, and as I chased after my younger cousin brother, I enjoyed the mushy feeling of the grass. But, before we knew it, it was raining cats and dogs, and we all ducked under the only shed we saw-the temple shed. Already quite wet, my cousins and I roamed around under an ignorant umbrella, clearly drained of energy to drain the water falling on us. It was clear as day that it would rain all night.