My first monsoon away from Mumbai
Bombay has earned its reputation as a buzzing, always alive, always dazzling city. Its population is dense, and struggling to keep up with the speed of life there. There is speed, and there is the lull of the long choking traffic jams, the long hours commuting to and from work, the busy humdrum of everyone’s daily routine.
But this blog is not about how fast, or how populated, or how crazy Bombay is. Everyone knows that. This is about what I miss most, after moving out of Bombay. Quite naturally, I miss my parents and my apartment building. I miss the sea breeze, and fresh morning air. The coast vibe, and the quiet sunsets. The crazy festivals, and the sense of community in the busiest schedules. As June sets in I realized the thing I will miss to a point of heartache forever- the rainy season of Bombay.
Being a pluviophile, I always relished the onslaught of rainfall in my hometown. It rained and it poured, and I never complained. I loved everything about the rains- the dark clouds, the foggy weather, the cold winds, and the pitter patter of rain drops on windows, the lush greenery and the fall in temperatures. I even loved shopping for the stylish umbrellas and the rainy shoes- in their various colors and hues.
Bombay’s rains come as a welcome after the sultry and sticky humid heat of the summers. A lot of people complain about how life comes to a standstill in the rains there. How public transportation gets affected, and how it becomes a matter of life and death just to reach the workplace and then back home. The city’s infrastructure is overburdened with the humongous influx of population. And the heavy rainfall further affects life there. When the local train services get affected, commuters pour onto the roads effectively strangling traffic movement to a choke hold. Add to that the deathly pothole situation, and chances are you would find more irritated and angry Mumbaikars in the rainy season.
It has even been fatal for some unfortunate ones, who are victims of circumstantial accidents due to heavy rains. Just last year, in 2018, a foot over bridge over a very busy railway station (Andheri) collapsed after a long and heavy downpour. This effectively shut train services for a day or two, thus forcing a halt of commercial activity in the city. People had no way to travel the long distances and water was everywhere.
Barring the unpleasant situations, Mumbai rains are surely the most memorable and beautiful time of the year for many people. Cue- The long drives on rainy roads, the glistening foliage, lush greenery of the Sanjay Gandhi National Park, the respite from the dirty air that is inhaled on a daily basis, the weekend trips to Lonavala and Mahabaleshwar, the hot fried foods and piping hot masala tea to accompany them, the roadside vada pav with spicy red chutney or a fresh green chilly…. Ah, this list could go on for me.
It is difficult to let go of the images of Mumbai’s monsoons, stuck in my head. But the nostalgia is something else. It is one of the biggest things I will remember fondly about my maaika (parents’ home), after marriage. One minute I close my eyes, and I am still the eleven year old school girl looking out the window on a rainy July afternoon. Probably craving for some hot bread pakodas with a cup of chai. Or splashing in the puddles of water flaunting a pink umbrella with glittery hearts. One of my most prized possessions as a kid. :)
You can take the me out of the monsoon place. But you could never take the monsoon out of me.
