Picture tells a thousand stories-Wk34

Hello steemians,

When I think back to my college days, the first thing that comes to mind is the sound of rain hitting the tin roofs of our town. Every year, the monsoon arrived like a heavy curtain, and with it came water that turned our streets into rivers. We learned to live with the flood, and the experience shaped us in ways we never imagined.

The first year of college, I arrived home after a long semester, only to find the main road under a few feet of water. My friends and I had to wade through ankle‑deep puddles just to reach the campus gate.

Shoes soaked, books drenched, but laughter never stopped. We made a game of who could splash the highest or who could keep their bag dry the longest. Those small moments became a bond that lasted long after graduation.

Classes were often held in makeshift rooms. The university’s library, usually a quiet place, turned into a temporary shelter where we shared stories, tea, and extra blankets. Professors would arrive on boats or on foot, always with a smile and a reminder to stay safe. The flood taught us patience; we learned to wait for the water to recede before we could go back to normal life.

The flood also showed the strength of our community. Neighbors opened their doors, sharing food and dry clothes. Volunteers organized clean‑up drives, and local shops sold cheap plastic sheets that helped protect homes. Watching everyone work together was a lesson in solidarity that textbooks never taught.

Now, years later, I still hear the distant rumble of thunder and feel a twinge of nostalgia. The monsoon may still flood our town, but the memories of those rainy days remain bright. They remind me that even when the world around us seems to drown, we can always find a way to rise, together.

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I am inviting @limon88, @woka-happiness, and @sabirnaz to take part in this contest.
Thank you for reading

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