Ever since
you watched the Bollywood movie Wake up Sid, you’ve wanted to experience
the Mumbai monsoons and this year you finally did. You woke up to the sound of
the wind whistling through the windows, a sure sign of what was to come. When
the first drops of rain hit the roof, you were already sitting in the balcony,
feeling the cold breeze through your flimsy cotton T shirt. You closed your
eyes, finally the rains were here. Two minutes later, the sun was out, and you
felt like you’d imagined the whole thing. It was now the perfect weather for a
morning walk, but you were disappointed.
The next
time you saw the dark stains on the grey road you looked up at the cloudy sky
and smiled. You’d had an exhausting day, and you were ready to finally slosh
through the puddles of muddy water with no regard for your safety. You tucked
your umbrella under your arm and watched the tiny droplets hit the ground. The
world was silent with the only audible sound being the crunching of leaves as
the trees swayed in the monsoon breeze. It took you twenty minutes to reach home,
and your hair was as perfect as ever, dry and wavy.
The third
time you heard the patter of raindrops, you really did not want to step out.
You had done this song and dance twice already and you were in no mood to be
disappointed again. But you’d made a commitment, and your cousin would have
made your life a living hell if you’d made her dress up for nothing. So, you
put on your jean skirt, your fake piercing, a top your mother would have burned
if she knew it still existed, and stuffed your earphones in, humming to
yourself as you waited for the lift to reach your floor. The journey down was uneventful
as always and you paused for a minute to skip the song that Spotify managed to
sneak into your playlist before walking to your destination. The drizzle was so
gentle that you quickly discarded the idea of going back up to get your
umbrella. After all, this wasn’t your first rodeo.
She was
pissed. You chuckled to yourself as she launched into a monologue about
respecting people’s time and not making them wait for more than three minutes.
She’s known you for your whole life, as far as you’re concerned, she should
have seen it coming. She adjusts the bag on her shoulder, “Where’s your
umbrella?” You look up at the cloudy sky, “It’s not going to rain.” She rolls
her eyes, pulling her windcheater closer to her and you continue walking, side
by side, like you’ve been doing now for nearly a month.
There’s a
slight breeze and you shiver a little, determined not be fooled thrice. As if
in response, the heavens open up and you finally experience the Mumbai rains,
strong, unrelenting and beautiful. As the water soaks into your skin, you smile
before realising that your phone is not waterproof. You hurriedly pass it over
to your cousin who tucks it inside her windcheater pocket. The puddles are
already forming, and you walk through them gleefully as the rain keeps coming
down. You already look like a drowned rat but you’re oblivious to the looks
you’re getting from the sensible people walking alongside with their umbrellas
open. You’ve waited for this for so long and it’s perfect. Your cousin pulls
down the headpiece of her windcheater and you walk the rest of the way in the
pouring rain. The company’s great, the route is scenic, and you’ve just lived
out your Bollywood dreams of getting absolutely drenched in the Mumbai rains.
For Aalene, who absolutely should read this
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