The weekend was beyond hard to get through. And if you thought I had cribbed enough, you should be glad you didn’t witness my epic cribs on Sunday, when I spent most of the day in my bedroom, doors and windows shut, a/c turned down to 16 degrees. And I stayed there till 7 pm.
I prayed and hoped that this was the worst of it, the last spike, before a good long shower comes to wash it all down. I vowed that the first showers would have me out running in the rain. And yesterday evening, I sat in my balcony watching the skies turn crazy shades of pink and orange like I haven’t seen in a long while now. I just knew it was time.
The moment arrived a little past midnight, last night. And I was up watching The Big Bang Theory when I saw a flash of lightning set my window aglow. Even through the sheer curtains and over the hum of the air-conditioner, I could tell the weather was changing outside. The thunder followed soon. And as both got quicker and louder, I found it hard to get myself to sleep. So when the first drops hit the ground past midnight, I half contemplated running out for a bit, and keeping my promise to myself. But better sense prevailed, and I told my frail heart that was trembling with joy to calm down.
As predicted, I woke up to a morning veiled in tiny droplets. A fresh breeze smacked me in the face and it the best of it is here. Its official; you’re not going to have me cribbing about the summer anymore.
Its time. To open up all the windows.
Bring out the raincoats and rain pants. Find the cozy adda for the season. And to watch life change, as it already has. This morning when I dropped the hugsband to work (yes, his bike will now be more or less rendered useless till September), I saw umbrellas open, colourful raincoats and galoshes on the kids. Yes, can you tell we’re all desperate for good long hard rain?
It’s time to kick-start the rainy playlist. Though, I must confess I have cued it in a little ahead of time this year. Every monsoon this track is played approximately 36940289 times. Its a wonder my mp3 track hasn’t worn out already. Somewhere in the recesses of the monsoon archive on this blog, I’m sure it has made an appearance already, but here it is again. Because its what I have on repeat right now.
It’s time for the clean skies, clear washed out air. And a crazy sea. I looked out on my way back home this morning and it was a murky brown, with death waves crashing on the shore.
It’s amazing how we do so much to get through a horrid summer. Multiple cold showers, air-conditioned comforts, milkshakes, ice-cream, several dozen litres of buttermilk and lemonade, light airy summer clothes, and we think we have it in control. But the truth is the summer has played me right to its tunes this year. So little was really in my control, and I pretty much succumed and accepted defeat. And just when I began to feel like I couldn’t take it anymore, the rain has swooped in. One downpour is all it took to bring some relief.
The winds have made a dramatic return. The hotbox that was my home, now has a cool cross-breeze flowing right through it. The light is gorgeous outside. When I woke up this morning, I could have cried tears of joy.
It’s time to plan movie screenings and projector parties, long drives to secret island hideaways, seek out the odd restaurant serving river fish, go to the beach some day too. I can’t wait.
I’m contemplating a third cup of chai and feeling my heart brim with relief. The first few showers are like tantalising teasers. Washing everything clean, leaving the smell of wet-earth lingering in the air, like a teasing sign of what is to come. It’s only when the first big downpour hits us that the moment sinks in. The monsoons are here to stay and turn our lives around for the next 4-odd months.
But it’s officially here. I’m going to move from cribbing about the summer to waxing eloquent over and over and over about the monsoon. I can feel it in my bones, I really can.