Raining And Reminder

I am sharing this morning thought!

Fifteen years ago in our village, Himachal Pradesh, we had slate-mud houses where families lived together cheerfully. Every year, during the rainy season, we were involved in rainwater harvesting (realising its importance now). I still remember when rain precipitation was about to come down; how my father put on his long gumboots (who alone waits for the monsoon) and started preparing for water storage. Whatever, the empty cans inside the house had been gathered from the storeroom and placed sequentially under the roof slate in the yard where rainwater drips.

The big tin-tub always been positioned under the corner slates, catching the volume of water run down in good quantity from two sides of the slanting roof – like a fountain. Small clay pitchers having circular mouths with round bodies were arranged at the front of the slate roof. These were resting down with the support made from flexible woody climbers/stems; we Himachli called it as binna. The steady drips of falling rainwater create a rhythmic sound that matches the pace of the rain.

And we listened to it, sitting on the veranda with grandparents and waiting for the command of our parents to get out for a rainy bath in the muddy yard. That rainy shower with siblings was fun.

The huge tub filled with rainwater was like a mini multi-purpose reservoir for two-three days' usage for cleaning, washing purposes, and other household chores. At that time, there was hydrological integrity with nature. We have surely forgotten the traditional rain-catching habits and, in reverse, adopted the habit of using more water, its waste as well as contamination alongside.

For instance, the same amount of water is contaminated in a single round of washing or cleaning purpose. I must mention the technology of the washing machines, where we wash the extra clothes in a single run. Another huge amount of water we use to wash, rinse, and then for spin to remove the chemical detergent. Thoughtfully, we are contaminating the regular water every day knowingly, and the earth's percolation is filtering the gravitational water selflessly.

Another thought: why haven't technicians thought of circular water movement in washing machine where spun water could be utilized in the washing water column rather than pass through the drainage pipe, with an internal pipe setup to avoid adding water for the next washing batch?

This thought made me to embrace the rain more.

Save Water, Save Earth.

What are your thoughts? 

Or what reminds you when rain clouds overcast your area?

You can share your memories or comments in the box below.

Kindle Voyage of Numbers & Figures

Now my little one is growing, counting the language in numbers and figures, tracing tiny fingers for representation. His learning of 0-9 numbers along with companion figures, marches up to 50 with practising the pencils in hand. 

For him, each maths notebook cell is for one figure. I saw him writing 10, one in the first cell and zero gently in another, but he is not aware of the sequence. Sometimes, he writes zero in the first cell and put 5 in next, there he calls it as 50 ‘fifty’ proudly.

He is curious to see the change, the sequence break after 9, 19, 29 etc. He has to change for the next level after the ninth figure. And with practice, accepting the change at 10th cell- ready to forward for the next line. Learning that things halt temporarily and then shift with change, though they move toward the future or proceed. They stop temporarily, and the rhythm restarts after a moment.

The same change: he is learning to ask me ‘mama g kitne baj gye?’ Mother, what time is it? Curiosity about the change in time is from his last year's routine. He is listening his father saying, ‘Good morning 'little uth jao aath baj gye! school jana hai!' From there, he is curious to see the clock with needle on ‘8’ number through his squinty eyes. And he is asking in routine- kitne baj gye?' at noon, in the evening, at night before sleep, and in the morning when he wakes up. and replying every time, 'Atth baj gye?'

 Then, I showed him the clock and the second needle; moving with a tik-tik sound after a second and a sign of the time we humans measure. He saw the same numbers engraved in a circle as in the notebook, but in a single line. These are 1 to 12. He showed no reaction. 

I asked myself, why has he not asked for the next number? Where is one-three ‘13’?

Maybe he is not aware of the sequence or is not judgemental at this age. 

But his mother is waiting for this question to be answered.