Patteringsplash

Aaaannd the Indian season is here! Our summers are hot like some African country, our winters are well, they are just poof, hello, bye! But our rains? Our rains are our very own. This last week was the first among many rainy weeks to come. And it began very well with people posting pictures and statuses on ‘oh monsoon is so beautiful.’ I had started this article early on Friday with the same idea in mind, but as it always does, the rain spoilt it all.

People go berserk when the first rain pours down and washes away all the summer dust. Kids (and sometimes hefty men too) run out to play football in the newly formed muck. Everyone stops what they are doing to look out of the window and take in the petrichor, 32 toothed smiles break out, deep breaths are taken by people standing under shop awnings. The new water sprinkling breeze makes our hearts dance! Usually it takes about a fortnight for the rains to get on our nerves. But this time, it was fast.

Friday had turned into heavy pour down day in Mumbai. The roads turned into murky ponds, the winds tried hard to uproot hair, children and parents rejoiced together as the school and offices were off. Those who stepped out came back home looking like they had to swim through fifty swimming pools to get there.

“Why didn’t you take an umbrella?” their mother/somebody asked. And they showed the thing in their hand, all wet and deformed and you realise they had taken one. My sister in Kerala, oblivious to all this terror unleashing in Mumbai, (there such rains are everyday) had planned to get married this weekend. And being a good family, we started off for the train station early on Friday, ready to travel south. We had a function the next evening.

“We’ll reach way before time,” my father had said. Well it’s Saturday evening and we are still stuck in Mangalore, 6 hours from our destination.

The train is moving so slowly, it’s as if it is embarassed of its lateness. And every other train is asking ours to move out of their way so that they can hog the track and be on time themselves.

So we passengers in the AC compartment have made this train our home. We know who is who, whose children are running around, we smile at each other, sharing food may soon start. Meanwhile the non-AC people are going mental. An open window and all the rain water rushes inside. The poor guys are sitting all flustered and angry. This rainy season had started off so well, but as soon as we put our heads out of the window to feel the sprinkle of rain water on our faces, the season hurled a bit of muck instead.

I was really going to write about the freshness of monsoon after a dreary summer and how romantic it is. After sitting for two days in a cramped capsule with diminishing resources (mind you I’m glad it’s a closed capsule, the non AC guys would smack me if they hear me complaining,) I have lost the fondness I had for the season. Three more months of rain coming up. Three more months of manoeuvring your umbrella among a million umbrellas, protecting your mobile phones in plastic packs (if you don’t do that then you should try, not a drop falls on your mobile.)

But hey it’s also three months of tea and pakoras, the breeze caressing you like a lover, the smell of mud making you heady. Let’s pray that the rest of the season won’t be as terrible as Mumbai rains. Have a happy and safe monsoon everyone! Have fun 🙂

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