A rainy day has so many filthy things to harbor. An alley inundated, an unskinned manhole awaiting you, a jet of mud from a car happily speeding by, a sprained ankle from a slip ... but it can make your day very special, if you have a macintosh or umbrella with you. It can spare a whole street, empty, craving only your footsteps.
I had an opportunity yesterday, in Mymensingh. Not a soul around you, and you have that black pitched strip ahead ... with muddy stripes along. Only the sound from your boots, and the incessant hissing of rain, everything quiet, wet and numb ... and you feel that you could walk like that for the rest of your life, isn't that wonderful?
I wish I could walk in Dhaka like that, all alone, only raindrops giving me an ovation, with sprinkles rising from my feet, along the streets, docile and dormant, for me, and only me ...
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