A Puneri Monsoon

The sound of pitter patter. Somehow, I am used to it now. The unending raindrops fall on the AC vent, and produce an irritating tap-tap-tap background music. I have no idea how I manage to sleep every night even with this not-so pleasing sound ringing in my ears. Ultimately, it does wake me up in the mornings.

All I have ever associated monsoons with is pakodas, Maggie and soup. The raindrops happen to remind me only of the Chak dhoom dhoom chak or the last scene in Wake Up Sid. Mumbai ka monsoon is so romanticised in movies that one considers it nothing short of a paradise. But the truth is, Maharashtra rains are nothing more than loud horns, unexpected lightning and chikhat. Ofcourse, there used to be a time these monsoons used to bring with them a beautiful green cover. But the virgin green ghats are now so popular that one sees more people than trees, and more butta waste than waterfalls.

I have never been a monsoon person. Except the mitti ki Khushboo, there’s literally nothing I cherish much about the season. I still remember back in school how we had to cancel our games periods or assemblies for the sake of monsoons. All sulky faces. Then that continuous rainfall. There was laziness and lethargy all around. Sometimes I was even too lazy to even remove the umbrella from my bag, so didn’t mind getting wet.

Those lovely childhood days are long gone when we used to dance in the rain, get our hair wet and then shake our heads to sprinkle that water on our friends. In this era of acid rains, we hardly see any kids creating those memories. Guess they’ll never know the pleasure of dancing on Barso re megha megha in full Aishwarya-Rai style with the incessant rains.

And now these college days. Walking 500m to the rickshaw stands with thick raindrops falling on my head. Just to find out that all the rickshwalas are either tucked away in their rajais at home or taking some other passenger. So I just wave my hand in the air like a dancer to catch a rickshaw. After some 5 minutes of the continuous action of staring at my watch and then staring again at the road, I get a rick. Then with that jhatak  scarf of mine wrapped around my tiny head, I venture on this hawadar  journey to college. I used to shiver or even try to wipe the water droplets around me earlier. But with time, I learnt to be so engrossed in my music that I’m not bothered by either the wind or the rain.

Then after reaching college, you are quite likely to see a girl squeezing her t-shirt or even her hair to drain out the water. Thank you two-wheelers, get your raincovers asap. Once this nichodna process is done, they just cover themselves up in a scarf or a jacket and somehow survive in the kadakti thand of the college hawa all day. We all somehow hibernate (with our eyes open) throughout the lectures, and then just wake up during the break to stuff our mouths with a huge variety of dishes. Most of the last lectures are bunked, to avoid the evening traffic.

And the return journey is the most entertaining part ever. After bargaining on the atrocious prices stated by the rickshwalas, I finally get one and go back. For a few minutes, the roads are all jolly and empty even despite all the rains. But after a bit, they get inspired by the Mutha river nearby and begin their water-clogging antics. So my rickshaw goes like some superb Fast and Furious car, splashing water on the faces of all the nearby 2-wheeler walas. Then I reach this signal which is infamous for the tremendous traffic. For the next 15 minutes or so, I just enjoy the symphony of raindrops, horns and beggars saying please didi. Mixing these with the miscellaneous songs played by the truck-walas, and Kuhad’s cold/mess, trust me the overall outcome is highly interesting.

At last, I reach home, wash my face and start thoosna. Then all the tensions of the whole wide day are all forgotten.

Honestly, this tension, these irritating drops aren’t that annoying anymore. I am quite used to them now, and am starting to like them really. I guess we are all plants at the end, taking in the different sized raindrops of situations and blooming with flowers at the end.