I'm only happy when it rains

You wait for the rain, sweat running down every crevice, corner, surface; humidity sitting like a hippo in the air between you and the wall.

Then it rains and there's mud in and filth in every corner, crevice, surface of your body and the world.

The auto wala says to me, arre baarish,maidam, na aaye tho tadpaye, aaye tho sataaye.

But I love it.

I love the sheeted light, the unchanging silver grey day, the kids looking like flowered humpbacks with their big bags under their raincoats.

The day causes no anxiety, no requirement to react to changing temperature and signs of time.

Coffee at 6:45. A window to watch trees, water, birds from. That voluptuous monsoon feeling. Makes you forget for a minute that the clothes which have turned your bedroom into a deeply unglamorous dhobi ghat haven't dried for three days.


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