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September 2010: What's in the breeze |
Mumbai Monsoon Magic
It was the end of June and no sign of rain. Searing heat, a parched earth, and water shortages - all hitherto unheard of in this city that I love. And then the skies opened up and heralded the onset of my favourite season. As a child, the onset of the monsoon held great excitement for me. It meant the re-opening of school, shopping for rainy-weather shoes and a brand new raincoat. It meant sitting indoors on a particularly rainy day, sipping Kerala kapi and listening to “Raindrops keep falling on my head’ or “Rhythm of the Rain” on our decade old Grundig radiogram. There were no rain holidays at school as it never did get flooded in Colaba where I lived. Unlike now, where a bi-monthly rain holiday is pretty much the norm in my daughter’s school in suburban Mumbai due to a real or perceived threat of a repeat of 26/7. A favourite past time for us kids would be to make paper boats and have our own boat races in the waters flowing by reminiscent of Onam in my home town.
As I grew up and graduated from raincoats to umbrellas it was easier to get drenched in the rain. My friends and I would walk by the shore at the Gateway of India and watch with utter fascination as the raging sea splashed its majestic waves on the Gateway promenade. A bit of the spray would fall on us and we would dance in glee. A walk on Marine Drive would find me grappling with gusty winds which would turn my strongest umbrella inside out and drench me to be bone. I loved the trickle of the raindrops down my forehead, that washed down to my nose and settled on my lips. At home, mummy would be worried. “Do you want another visit from your friends Mr Sinusitis, Mr. Pharyngitis and Mr. Bronchitis?” she would ask. The bhuttawala would set up stall below my building and piping hot bhuttas made on a sigdi were a regular evening snack. Today things are different. Monsoon in suburban Mumbai means flooded roads, chaotic traffic and a sense of dread. Will the husband who drives 15 kms to work be back on time? Will my daughter’s school bus get stuck somewhere? Will I be able to get some public transport in case of an emergency? But even today I have my magic monsoon moments. Like yesterday, when I joined my little girl in stepping into the muddiest of puddles, our feet squelching in our shoes. And I was a little girl once again.
Chillibreeze's disclaimer: This is a contributed article and was published on Chillibreeze in November, 2009. The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author(s) and do not reflect the views of Chillibreeze as a company. Chillibreeze has a strict anti-plagiarism policy. Please contact us to report any copyright issues related to this article. The relevance of the facts and figures cited (if any) could change after a period of time.
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