Monsoon season won’t last… As the clouds do their job and the Government fails to do, we realize we are made of sterner stuff.
Through flooded potholes and roads and jams we still make our soaking selves home to tell our shocking tales to stunned neighbors and family. Heck, we still have ‘Sawan Ka Maheena, Pawan Kare Sooooor’ playing sometimes, on repeat, as we delve into our options of how to get home, on a road crammed with sputtering and coughing cars.
As the clouds recede, their magic will linger along with the foreboding they bring of a collapsing infrastructure.
As we open all the doors of our car, everyday, in the hopes of getting the carpeting to dry and the smell to evaporate, we keep one eye on the Met Department predictions, the other on the sky.
With a prayer on our lips and a song in our heart we step into another working day, patting our bag to make sure that the ineffectual umbrella is still there. We give a parting glance to the safe haven we are leaving behind and bid adieu to colorful ‘juttis’ struggling to dry into a wearable shape, on the balcony.
Yes, it takes more than this to break our spirit….