Saturday, June 27, 2009

All that I leave behind Part IV

Friends of mine called up yesterday from Mumbai to tell me that the rains have struck Mumbai at last. And here I am in the Indian Hotland, with the sun beating down upon me incessantly, and today evening, as I walked with a vacant mind, I thought again - here was yet another piece of 'all that I left behind'....

The famous rains of Mumbai. Not everyone likes them. Like in the case of wine, appreciating Mumbai rains is an acquired taste. For someone like me who loves every aspect of Mumbai - the salty wind, the rains, the people, the lifestyle, the everything, liking Mumbai rains is a given. I remember when I was a kid, my day during the monsoons would begin with an expectant look out the window, to see how cloudy or rainy the day looked. Colossal rains implied a shadow day at school, a day of simply hanging out with friends, since all teachers would be absent. Rainy days meant splashing water all over the place on the walk home, wading through knee deep water even though there existed a route home away from the water-logged part. As we moved from the care-free days of school to the days of work, rainy days were looked upon with disdain, since rain or shine, work never waited. And a wet, drenched, gooey commute later, we'd get to work only to repeat the exercise on the way home. But the silver lining in a dark, cloudy, rainy working day would be taking a hot shower after coming home wet, and then curling up on the couch with a piping hot cup of coffee, while Yanni would play in the background, and the rain drops would trickle beautifully down the large windows. And how can rains be complete without a trip to Worli Sea face or Marine Drive during the cloudy, rainy days? Just to see the huge waves splashing against the wave breakers, releasing their unbridled energy in the form of a salty spray that upon touching your face would leave your face with a smile and your heart full of ebullient joy.

So, when my friends told me about the advent of Mumbai rains, I tried to transport myself off to Mumbai, and imagined myself at the sea side, with a tapri wala chaai and a vada pav, drinking in the beautiful salty smell of the sea wind, sitting on the katta of sea face, with all my 'aquaphilic' friends, talking and watching the unending expanse of gray, far into the horizon, where the gray sea met the gray cloudy sky, and then suddenly as though hearing my thoughts, two drops of rain fell on my face, and my day felt complete.....

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Obviously, you have not seen the Kerala rains!

Prasoon said...

Like in the case of wine, appreciating Mumbai rains is an acquired taste - totally totally agree! Nothing comes close actually. :)