My first umbrella- a promotion from the sticky, plastic smelly raincoat to the world of colorful umbrellas…..
I didn’t require the umpteen sessions of Marketing Management to appreciate the commanding influence of advertising then - The POPY ad Mazha Mazha kuda kuda…. just drove us sisters nuts to a point where we were not ready to hit school without one.
And one fine day, my parents come back after work, and on the holder of the ancient Rajdoot bike were 2 beautiful yellow colored umbrellas….and much to our delight- the brand POPY….
No words of joy would come, just some clicking noises from the semi toothless oral cavity of mine. I grabbed the umbrella to see the specs and features. It had the traditional U-shaped handle (in plastic yellow too), but had an automatic open system with a push button. The fabric had small flowers on them, and the steel was shiny…Brand new. Then came the routine ‘female’ check of whose is better. As usual, the green monster struck the right chord and I felt that my sisters umbrella, which was exactly the same shape and color, fabric and size, but for the print, looked better. But then the feeling passed. And we waited impatiently for the night to end in order to to inaugurate the beautiful thing the next day.
The first day was a dreamy affair of carrying this new and beautiful accessory with pride, and show it to the whole world. The second day passed with the same enthusiasm. And the third day. Alas!! No signs of clouds….While others around me were happy that the rains did not spoil the sheen of their brand new uniforms and shoes, mothers happy about a day or two of sunshine to dry clothes, and the roads to drain down the muddy water, the two of us waiting for a heavy downpour.
And on the fourth day, when we had given up all hopes of a drop of rain, as we were just getting off the school bus and walking the short distance home, the rain gods came down in all their fury, drenching anything and everything. Before we were allowed the glory of inaugurating our new push-open umbrella, we were drenched to the skin, not to mention our bag, books and lunch kit, with a puddle of water in our shoes….but who cared. We could only hear the music that fell above our head, and deliberately walked home slowly……………..
That’s the story of my Yellow umbrella!!
