Why indeed? I
mean, who doesn’t like pleasant weather and the romance of rains after the
oppressive heat that is Bombay summer? Well, me for one. I’m not looking
forward to rains.
It’s not like I
don’t like rain. It’s beautiful of course. From my window. The moment I have to
step out, it doesn’t seem so great anymore. Bombay in the monsoon sucks. It’s
filthy most of the year; during monsoon it’s filthy and wet- ie gross. If you
are not from the privileged class that travels only in cars, chances are you will
have to wade through dirty water at some point or another, every single time
you step out. And even if you are from the privileged class, in fact especially
so, you will get stuck in traffic.
And then there is
the matter of all those people living on pavements and in slums, with no proper
drainage to speak of. Do they find the rain romantic when the water reaches
their doorstep and beyond? Do they find it romantic when their roof starts to
leak, or when the streets become rivers of floating muck, and excreta from
several living forms? Do they find it romantic when they spend nights huddled
under plastic sheets?
I’m not sure when
I started to view the rain differently. I don’t want to be a spoilsport when
everyone seems to be waiting with such anticipation, and there is joy all
around. Maybe this conversation is partly to blame. At any rate, I can safely
say, as lovely as the rain still is from my window, as stunning as the skies
are these days, and luscious the green, I will henceforth always have mixed feelings about rain.
No comments:
Post a Comment