Saturday, 11 June 2011

"Oh look, it's raining"

As a kid, if anyone ever told me that the monsoon
is overrated, and annoying, I'm not sure how my reaction would've been. Then
again, who says such things to children?

Today, however, if one said the exact same phrase to me; I'd think that
person's thoroughly misinformed. For two reasons: one, the monsoon, or the
'rainy season' as it's know around these parts, isn't overrated. It's usually a
case of 'over', but of a different kind, most of them being the grammatical
cousins of the adjective 'over-flowing'. And two, they're not 'quite' annoying;
I believe the word you're looking for is 'very', and as always, it applies to
us humans, and not the natural phenomenon which, I believe, is called
'precipitation' by the scientific community.

The
thundering of rain clouds and the pitter-patter outside the window coincides
with the opening of schools and colleges. Imagine waking up to a nice and cool
morning, whilst you’re all snuggled up and cozy in your bed, and then facing
the prospect of getting ready to…go out there. If this doesn’t ruin a
good day, then I don’t know what does. School days, though, are okay; I mean,
you don’t really need an excuse to make mischief, and splash about in puddles,
and even if you do, you have a solid alibi: “But, it’s raining!”

Once you
grow slightly older, and begin commuting, you say the same words; only this
time, it’s a low, lazy and unwilling effort on your part, and it usually goes
like, “Oh *bleep*, it’s raining.” (Do notice the emphasis, if I might
add).

But hey,
you never really hate the monsoon. You just end up making a list of
things that you hate during the monsoons.

Like
walking—anywhere outside the dryness of your house—be it the roads, or train
stations; there’s cars’ splashing water and mud onto you, like it’s their god-given
right to do so. And, if you’re driving, swearing at stupid pedestrians who
practically walk on the roads, like it’s their
god-given right to do so. They can have the foot paths, skywalks or the whole
of Marine Drive
for all I care…but WHY the roads?! Alas, that enlightenment is still beyond me.

Coming to
think of it, there is no single apparatus, accessory or even a damn vehicle
here that is completely rain-proof, other than perhaps a reinforced concrete
structure, with some good paint on the exterior walls; then again, you can’t
carry your house everywhere, can you? You will have to settle for either an
umbrella, or a wind-breaker. And to make this choice correctly is to have a
superior sense of weather-forecasting, much like the Native American Indians.
But unlike us, they usually stay indoors, and stock up on food supply when they
predict harsh weather. While we are left to battle the unpredictable and
unforgiving rain and winds (not to mention flooded gutters and potholes), in
which case the umbrella ends up upturned, and ones underpants, the only garment
which remains dry under a wind-breaker.

However,
before you dismiss me as a cynic, let me tell you that I, in fact, do love the
monsoon. Sure it has its downsides; you’ve just read about four-hundred words
of it, and also the fact that I, like over a million people, have been stuck in
local trains when the tracks flood (some scary scenario, this is); but,
compared to summers that makes pot-holes baking ovens, and winters that are
probably non-existent (or very cold, as we saw last year), the monsoon truly is
a wonderful season.

Especially
if you live in a place from where you can see lush, green mountains and
water-falls; and have a terrace where you can get wet without stepping on mud
or, being run over by a lunatic whose wipers aren’t working. But, if you live
in a place where it floods the instant the skies begin tinkling and where there
are traffic jams below your window, then, I’m sorry to say: bad luck, mate.