Morning shows the day - at least that's what the textbook says. But Mumbai rains? It doesn't follow any textbook, notebook,weather forecast or whatsoever. Its the lord of its own mood and fancy when to show up. So what does the Mumbaikars do since they don't have a weather forecast to depend on? Of course they depend on their inner self or for that matter something known as intuition.

Now the fact is that this intuition is also as bad as the weather department forecasts. It tricks you and catches you unawares.

Since officially the monsoons are here in Mumbai, the first thing I do in the morning is to look out of the window and play a Q&A session with my intuition. And today it predicted fair weather going by the bright sun and no clouds in sight. So eventually I decided to try on my brand new Allen Solly steel gray trousers which was perfectly complimenting my pastel colored shirt. There was a small problem, the length of the trousers was a tad more. I didn't want to change into something else thereby upsetting my dress code, so after much speculation I decided to were my stilettos with it to adjust the height.

As expected I made a fashion statement at my workplace by attracting appreciating looks from all around. The 1500 bucks for the trousers seemed totally worth spending now. I was in all smiles until the first frown came on my face around the lunchtime. The sky was terribly overcast with a mild drizzling. I crossed my fingers. Four and a half hours to go, things can change.

Things did change and that too form bad to worse. I sprinted to the bus stand across my office at 5.30, hoping to beat the rain. The traffic was bad due to rains and the always-under-construction roads of Navi Mumbai were cradling knee deep mud and slush. As my luck would have it, the buses were diverted from the main route and by the time I came to know that the damage was already done. The bus left me at a good enough distance of 20 minutes form the main road. A guy also from my company (gathered form his I-card) was also in the same bus and hence had the same fate. People in distress become friends so happened for us.

The guy suddenly became very chivalrous and courteous. He started walking in front of me and directing me where all to step. My situation was pretty bad - a fat book in my hands and holding up the trouser with the other while trying to wade through the knee deep mud puddles balancing on my catwalk stilettos. The guy was genuinely sorry for my pathetic state or at least he looked so.

Gosh I couldn't even bear to look at the state of my trousers. The concoction of cow shit, mud, spit, earthworms and I don't know what was lovingly following me where ever I stepped.

That's when the rain started and the umbrellas of all shape sizes and colors were flung open here and there. Now all I could see was a sea of colorful umbrellas at the eye level, each trying to push and shove the other umbrella.A slight miss to dodge, and your eyes would become the perfect score of a bulls eye.

I frantically tried to defend myself against the rain and attacking umbrellas.

Just as I walk cursing everything around me, my phone rang. And it kept on ringing.

This freaking phone wont ring even once when I would be at the comfort of my ac office or lounging on the bed at home. It would always ring when I wouldn't be in a position to pick it.

But I had to pick it. Since I'm currently on a job hunting trail , I cannot afford to miss any calls coming from unknown numbers, fifty percent of the time its the consultancy firm.

I answer the phone precariously balancing my book. It's from the mobile company and the voice on the other end wants to know why my outgoing calls have reduced in number over the past week.

I resist all the temptation in the world to hurl an abuse at the guy. I politely say, "I have just dumped my boyfriend hence the call numbers are going to be so till I find a new one!" and end the call.

The guy accompanying me looked a bit shaken by the sudden aggressive damsel. I don't care and keep walking. I was so derailed by the time I reached the main road that I felt like hitting someone just for all the miseries I had to endure.Finally when I stepped out of the rick before the gate of my society, I looked like a crow caught in a thunder storm. But even a crow in a thunder storm is better than me, at least it didn't have a mud splashed brand new trouser to sport with its wet look.

Now while I write all this the sky is clear, beautifully clear. I can even see the stars in ones and twos. Just wonder what exactly the rain gods had against me.

The only good thing in the entire episode- I didn't get splashed by a rick with rich and frothy puddled water - at least this one time.

Image: Internet

7 June

In my hometown Bandhs are as common as sun rising in the east and setting in the west. But in Mumbai its something which happens to be luck by chance. While the politicians are busy hogging the limelight by protesting the atrocities of the ruling party, for the common man its an extra day of leave.

Usually three days off from office would see me jumping up and down, making plans for a sojourn into some unknown wilderness with friends. But when your friends deceive you by already getting booked for the weekend you are left to shudder thinking of getting bored for three l-o-n-g days!

Saturday was a real bore, with really nothing to do I was sulking the entire day. Sunday was still better. We had to meet the broker along with the new owner of the flat to bargain the rent. The one hour rendezvous with them provided quite a lot of entertainment, and enough to bring me out of the extended weekend blue. I decided to fight the mood by buying myself some books, tad of window shopping and a leisurely lunch at home.

Today being a Bandh day and me in no mood to cook, I had planned my hogging schedule well in advance. I got the neighborhood takeaway joint to home deliver me their special chicken biryani and mutton rogan josh last night itself.  Late in the night I made a nice playlist of the songs I had not heard for long and saved it for today. Thus I was fully equipped to enjoy the Bandh day.

I had woken up quite early going by the normal holiday standard. The morning greeted me with rain. It was more of a drizzle. I was happy. Rains make me happy when I am at home.

I spread the chatai (mattress) near my window and piled up all the pillows by the wall.  I had plans of perching there till the evening, so it needed to be cozy. My window spans almost the entire length of the wall, hence I can have a nice view of outside even while sitting on the floor. I settled down comfortably with a cup of coffee and my laptop. The rains had stopped for a while. The sky was overcast with water impregnated clouds. There was a mild wind which made the weather more pleasant.  I was in a mood to write.

I scratched my mind for a topic, but it echoed back with an empty reply. I sat idle for a while waiting for that one spark of idea which might create a masterpiece. All the while my mind was getting distracted by the sight of the small kids playing in the school ground opposite to my building. Being a no-school day, the local boys were enjoying a game of football in the empty playground. They didn't have proper goal posts or anything, only a ball and a few enthusiastic hearts.

I got so engrossed in their game that soon I found myself rooting for one team. I was voicing out my views so loudly that my roommates got worried about my mental health. After assuring them that nothing was really wrong with me, I went back to my gallery view position. Soon it started raining. I thought that the kids would run for shelter, but seemed like their energy got a boost and they were playing with much more enthu now. Splashing around the mud puddles while it rains would never go out of fashion, I inferred.

After their game ended I focused back to the empty MS word document orphaned by my lack of attention. I  felt sorry for it but I still didn't have an idea. Songs were the best remedy to make the minds tick. I played the playlist from yesterday.

Rains , rains and rains... that's all in my mind now-a-days. I have junked up my playlist with all the rain songs I could dig up from my song folders. The first song was - Indian Rain by Colonial cousins.

And within minutes the sound of the rain melody filled my ears. I was transported back to a time when I was a teenager.

Rain Clouds in the sky, I don't know why
They make me blue, when I'm thinking of you
Maybe they want to cry, As I walk on by
Hiding my tears, in a world of good byes.

Such amazing lyrics - hiding my tears, in a world of goodbyes. Beautiful. Simple, yet meaningful. Sad, yet romantic.

I still remember the time when I used to rewind this song again and again in my philips walkman while sitting alone in the verandah or walking in the garden aimlessly. The flow of music would always give me an high.  Even after so many years it still feels the same way when I hear it. Soft and melancholic with an undertone of nomadic romanticism.

I really wonder how people manage to pen their exact feeling through words. I fail miserably hence I envy them. Like Gulzar, what a gifted lyricist he is. His words almost churn the core of your heart,  making you feel the mood of the character itself. I love his lyrics because, he uses the nature extensively to portray any emotion. I'm also a nature person, hence the love is but obvious. And with Gulzar's thoughts, the song from Machis - Pani pani re comes to my mind. Lata and Gulzar definitely had come up with a winner there.

Back to colonial cousins. The voice of Hariharan makes you feel singing is such an effortless job, and rendering such multitude of emotions to the words is a mere child's play. Specially the Dhentha Dhentha Dhena na Dhena part - truly surreal.

Somehow I always felt the singers from south have unmatched voice quality and sweetness whether its balasubramanium, minmini, kavita krishnamoorthy or anyone. Learning singing the classical way is the thing that makes one a singer, not like the numerous DJ, RJ, VJ and all those Js who keep mushrooming all the time and think that without a training in singing they would hit the charts. Thankfully the horrendous DJ era is slowly subsiding. Singers and composers are again trying to focus on good original music; of course there are exceptions like Pritam, who keep proving plagiarism is in vogue and one should never feel shy in lifting other's work. Wonder why the colonial cousins vanished into oblivion after the huge success of this album. I guess the modern times composers can come up with only a one time masterpiece unlike their forerunners who were consistent in their quality of work, giving us some evergreen melodies.

Surprisingly I realized that good music and random ramblings can offer you a temporary asylum anytime, anywhere. Deadly combination - it might even make a philosopher out of you.

As I was just trying to become one, my stomach started rumbling, interrupting my thought process reminding me apart from the foods for thought, I should have some real life food, so as not to let this budding philosopher die a premature death.

I warm the parceled food, adding some extra spices, I attain my kind of taste. I come back to my room with the plate of Biryani and rogan josh. The aroma of the wet earth gets mixed with the flavor of the food in my hand giving a feeling of home.

Its this feeling which might be known as being closer to the soil  The philosopher in me lovingly muses with a filled tummy.

Rain drops and dance, strange kind of romance
I don't know why (whether) to cry out loud, But I'm feeling fine
Watch the rhythm of the rain falling down...

Rains and ramblings never go out of fashion as well...



Image Source: Internet