Great, so monsoon's back! Being a Mumbaikar, rains always shared a special place in my heart. Of course, it irritates to be wet, but that's what substance we Mumbaikars carry in our hearts,
we often hate the one whom we love the most..
This sound of the drops falling on the earth are amongst the very few which plays a guitar in my heart
( please no cheap comparisons with the song "Dil Me Baji Guitar"). To the oldest of my memories which I recollect was when I innocently used to ask mom,
"Why does it rain mummy?"
And unable to explain me the fundas of tropical weather, she used to simply say,
"All Gods and your grandpa are crying coz you haven't finished your food.."
. Good strategy enough to finish the food!! The most interesting memory I have for this monsoon has to be the
First Day At The School. I still remember it always used to rain on the first academic day. I never felt like leaving Mom's hand at the school gate but left it with a heavy heart, just to greet my friends with a smile after a long vacation
(guys, we still didn't knew what was a hangout). Our crisp fresh new uniform with the latest favorite bags covered with the priciest raincoats and windcheaters, (we always craved for those as they had our favorite superhero/cartoon character on it)
I come to the point which Mumbaikars hate the most,
potholes, but we as school students used to love it, splashing that water on some of our irritating mates or simply giggling when a vehicle did it for us. If you haven't got wet in rains then probably you haven't stayed in Mumbai. The scolding from Mom with regular sneezes and Mom drying you with a towel followed by a hot drink, that's epic I tell you.
The often densely populated urban jungle suddenly turns greener
( at least what I can see from my window right now!!)
As a kid I loved to draw some funny figures on the hazed glass of my window, although I still do it. Endlessly playing indoor games with society friends was our afternoon dose of time pass and mind you video games and play-stations were still something which one would have played when he had visited a foreign nation.
Seldom, the sound afternoon sleep in the breezy weather was, and still is, a prized possession, curled up in our favorite blankets.
Being the youngest of the cousins, I was entitled to be the
"maximum-loved", I freshly remember those walks with my cousins in the rains when I held their hands and they used to narrate me stories, sometimes horror ones, so I got scared. Although I never got really, I just pretended so that they felt they had done it. How can I ever forget those rainy markets I visited with Mom, which I actually hated but I had to go wherever Mom took me. And those visits to temple where Dad took me along at my birthdays.
Now that I have grown up
( I am 18 which is treated as adult according to Govt of India, no, that doesn't mean I'm eligible to drink!!!),
I walk along the Marine Drive letting the waves reach me as they wish. I see a number of couples walking down, they really say, This Is The Season Of Love...
There are few families too.
How I wish I was a kid again coz
I am jealous of that kid, I see, who is holding his Mom and Dad's hand and trying to have a swing...
I am jealous of those kids, who seem to be cousins, and enjoying the waves hitting every tiny member of their chain...
I am jealous of each and every person here, whose with someone, someone truly loved...
How I wish,
I could coax Mom out in the rain and cancel Dad's appointments just so that they could just walk down with me, (I don't expect them to pick me up!!!)
I just wish I could get all my cousins, wherever they are, for just one another horror story..
I could gather all my school friends once again and play with the puddle, only once....
Could I just tell Mom and Dad, I don't want any gifts this coming birthday, just one walk in the rains??
.
.
.
That's why I wished there was no monsoon.
You see I told you, "We hate those whom we, eventually, love the most...!!"
