The rain conspiracy
In Shillong, rain is not just another season. It’s a statement of sorts and a practical joke on Shillongites and visitors. It conspires to deceive you into a false sense of security as you think you are well prepared to tackle it. Lo and behold, it may start to rain with some mathematical precision, hitting your exposed sides at 45 degrees, leaving you stunned, wet, and defeated.
In such a case, umbrellas just don’t remain mere accessories; they’re a way of life, a survival tool, and possibly part of a grand, unspoken conspiracy.
The city’s weather is unpredictably predictable—one minute it’s sunny, the next you’re battling a downpour.
Walk through Police Bazar, and you’ll see a kaleidoscope of umbrellas: neon pink, polka-dotted, or emblazoned with cartoon characters, often clashing gloriously with their owners’ outfits. It’s as if Shillongites are auditioning for a quirky fashion show where the dress code is “rain chaos.”
Despite the attack, we Shillongites are ready for what the rains throw at us. Raincoats, umbrellas, plastic covers, backup umbrellas in bags, and cars, we’re covered.
Meanwhile, tourists are the worst-hit. They arrive in Shillong, lured by tales of misty hills, only to be ambushed by sudden showers. You’ll spot them sprinting for cover, holding soggy clothes, looking betrayed by the clear skies and the lush green hills they witnessed on social media.
Shillong’s rains are truly unpredictable. Watch out for more this month.
Shillong’s weekend calm snapped in seconds!
Where do you run when the walls of your house begin to shake?
For Shillongites, that unsettling question turned real on Sunday when a 5.5 magnitude earthquake jolted the hill station, snapping the weekend calm into a brief episode of terror. The tremor, which lasted around 10 to 15 seconds, was enough to send people out of their homes, whispering prayers and scanning the skies as electric poles swayed and windows rattled.
In a city where tall buildings lean shoulder to shoulder in crowded localities, with high-tension wires strung overhead, the fear was palpable. What happens if the shaking doesn’t stop? What if the walls collapse?
For many here, the dread of earthquakes is a familiar companion. The very geography that makes Shillong beautiful such as the ills, the cracks and the crevices, also reminds its residents of the fragile ground beneath. The thought often plays in people’s minds: if a stronger quake were to hit, where would one escape?
Sunday’s quake was mercifully brief and left behind no major damage. But it served as a chilling reminder of the city’s vulnerability, and of the unspoken fear that lingers in the hills.
For now, Shillong breathes easy again. But the question remains: when the earth decides to move again, where do we run?