Paper Boats, Wet Shoes and School Holidays: Growing Up with the Monsoon

There was a time when the monsoon used to be the most exciting time of the year. Today, when it rains, we immediately think about traffic jams, flooded roads and what not! But as children, rain meant something completely different.

It meant paper boats, wet shoes, muddy clothes and, most importantly, the possibility of a school holiday.I still remember the excitement when the sky suddenly turned dark after weeks of scorching summer. The wind would pick up, the trees would start swaying, and everyone knew what was coming. Then came the first few drops, followed by that wonderful smell of wet earth. We did not need any weather apps to tell us that the monsoon had arrived- we could just smell it.

The best words in the world: “No school today”

For a school-going child, there were few things better than hearing that schools had been closed because of heavy rain.

The moment the news came, the entire mood at home changed.

No uniform. No school bus. No homework.

Suddenly, the same rain that had made our parents worried about water logging was the best thing that had happened all week.

We would sit near the window watching the rain, waiting for it to slow down just enough for us to go outside.

And of course, our raincoats were never as waterproof as they were supposed to be.

We would return home with wet socks, muddy shoes and trousers splashed with dirty water. There would usually be a little scolding waiting for us at the door.

But five minutes later, we were thinking about what to do next.

Paper boats and roadside rivers

The monsoon gave us our own little entertainment park.

All we needed was an old notebook and some rainwater flowing along the side of the road.

Making a paper boat was serious business. The folds had to be right, and the paper couldn’t be too thin. And once the boat was ready, we would place it carefully in the flowing water and run alongside it.

Sometimes there would be races.

There would also be arguments about whose boat had won.

Nobody really cared about the result.

We were simply happy to be outside in the rain.

And if the rain stopped for a while, the cricket bat would appear. A small lane became a cricket ground, a wall became the boundary and a parked scooter somehow became part of the playing field.

Chai, pakoras and rainy evenings

Some of the best monsoon memories, however, were indoors.

Rain falling outside.

The sound of water hitting the windows.

A power cut every now and then.

And from the kitchen, the smell of hot pakoras, samosas or whatever else happened to be the family’s favourite rainy-day snack.

There would be tea for the adults and perhaps Rasna for us !

We would sit around, talk, play carrom or cards, and wait for the electricity to return.

Looking back, those evenings were just wonderful!

There were no smartphones buzzing every few minutes. Nobody was constantly checking messages. We didn’t need much to keep ourselves occupied.

Somewhere along the way, we grew up

Then, without really noticing it, we grew up.

School holidays became work deadlines.

Wet shoes became an inconvenience.

Paper boats disappeared.

Rain started meaning traffic, delayed journeys and carrying an umbrella.

But the strange thing is that the first proper shower of every monsoon still brings something back.

The smell of wet earth.

The sound of rain on the roof.

A glimpse of children running through puddles.

And suddenly, for a few moments, we remember our own childhood.

Perhaps we remember an old school friend.

Perhaps we remember our mother calling us inside.

Or perhaps we remember a little paper boat floating down a roadside stream.

Maybe that is why we still love the monsoon.

Not because rain makes life easier—it certainly doesn’t.

We love it because, for a brief while, it reminds us of a simpler time when a rainy day could cancel school, a sheet of paper could become a boat, and getting completely drenched could be the best part of the day!