Rivulets of water streaming down green leaves. Tiny paper boats floating around in muddy puddles. The sharp rat-tat-tat of droplets against tin roofs and the scent of sweet jasmine rising through the air.
Back home in Kerala, the monsoons had been a time of celebration. The bright and lush paddy fields, car rides filled with the cheer of raindrop races, and the pleasure in consuming all the kozhikotta and chaaya that my grandmother made.
Board games and splashing puddles colored my monsoon. Yet when I arrived in Mumbai, it all came to a pause. Dancing in the rain turned to rushing for shelter, my puddle splashing transformed into cuffing my jeans and my previously abandoned umbrella found a new purpose.
Mumbai had taken away the joy of my beloved monsoon. Or so I thought.
The monsoons in Mumbai were different. While in Kerala, the cities came to a standstill in the face of storms, the hustle and bustle of Mumbai remained unwavering. A phenomenon I’ve slowly become used to.
In a way, the monsoons taught me a lot about Mumbai. I watched the way the people around me took equal joy in relishing and cursing the rain, complaining about it under the shelter of a bus yet joking about the prospect of a holiday being declared. My desire to truly experience the Mumbai Life™ took center stage and I took to immersing myself in the city as much as possible.
As the days passed, my love for Mumbai and its monsoon only grew. Walks on Marine Drive became the norm and ice cream in the cold weather, strange as it sounds, tasted even better than it did on a hot summer day.
Hot sweet chai and spicy vada pav became my best friends. My paper boats turned to paper cranes and my puddle splashing continued after its brief hiatus. I came to love the way the rain embraced the city, drenching its inhabitants and washing away the dust and grime, leaving it bright and vibrant.
I started looking forward to the way the stinging raindrops felt against my skin, my jeans were consistently soaked through and the scent of petrichor clung to me. Of course, that wasn’t to say there weren’t times when I’d raged at the sky, fuming at the dark clouds and gritting my teeth at the feeling of walking on wet, slippery pavement. Even then, I could never bring myself to truly despise the rain because despite everything, it had only made me fall more in love with the city.
I slowly began to rediscover the monsoons, finding an odd sort of comfort in it even with all its faults and the inconveniences it created, my disdain towards Mumbai slowly faded away. Now when I’m caught up in yet another impromptu monsoon shower, I find myself taking it all in, because if there’s one thing I’ve come to learn, it’s that we will miss them more than we can ever hate them.
- Anna Miriam Abraham
Sub-Head, Editorial Committee 2024-25
Perfectly described! 🥹
ReplyDeleteThank you dear
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