EVERYTHING is time begotten and death destined. So were those dear old raincoats, umbrellas and gumboots which so willingly, endearingly and readily offered protection from drenching whenever it drizzled or rained.
Their distinct memories are still fresh in our minds, and happy recollections return specially when a heavy downpour turns roads into water canals, causes massive traffic jams, taxis and rickshaws shy away and when your own car shudders and surrenders to the storm, leaving you with no option but to walk those 10 or 12 miles back home in lashing rains.
Only a couple of generations ago, as soon as dog days heralded the rainy season, people were reminded to make sure that their rain gear was in order. As soon as a fuliginous sky threatened rain, people about to venture out grabbed their umbrellas and slung their raincoats over their arms. Roads mushroomed with raincoats and colourful umbrellas when it rained.
In those days, when dams hadn’t yet disturbed the mood of the weather, the monsoons were punctual in their dutiful routine and people needed a protective outfit. Raincoats and umbrellas are very much in vogue in Europe even today. People travelling in cars keep a raincoat and an umbrella handy, not knowing when they will be needed. The umbrella is still the most convenient protection for the head and shoulders and, in the raincoat, protection and comfort of the body reconcile. Both protect the wearer from becoming a joke in bedraggled and mud-soiled garments, dripping from head to heel like a mopping cloth.
In Karachi, these useful belongings came to an end in the late ’50s of the past century. The reason for this seems to be the onslaught of the personal car. The raincoat and the umbrella were discarded and committed to the lumber room where they lay till their disjecta membra were eaten up by moths.
I myself did not have the heart to bid farewell to my loyal raincoat and umbrella, and salvaged them at the last moment from a kabariwalla’s cart. Very recently, they came wonderfully handy when I had to rush out in the rains in an emergency. I did not have the courage to drive my car in such a stormy weather. So, I put on my raincoat and shot open my umbrella. Along my street, people in their houses were enjoying the rain from their windows. Within earshot, I heard a little boy gleefully shout: “Look, Mommy. A man from Mars!”
Yes, indeed, times have changed. In today’s Karachi at least, I must be looking like a fool in my redundant raincoat and unfashionable umbrella.
The rains did not stop. A knock on my gate brought me out to greet the little boy and his mother.
“Uncle,” said the boy, “my father wants to look like a man from Mars!”
His mother explained: “My husband has to go out in an emergency. Our car won’t start. Please, could he borrow your raincoat and umbrella for a while?”
Later, the gentlemen came to return my raincoat and umbrella with a profusion of thanks and said, “When the rain stops and shops open, the first thing I’m going to do is buy a raincoat and an umbrella. I hope they are still available in the market.”
EVERYTHING is time begotten and death destined. So were those dear old raincoats, umbrellas and gumboots which so willingly, endearingly and readily offered protection from drenching whenever it drizzled or rained.
