A palm tree seen through many raindrops. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Well, for all those who’ve been grumbling the whole of June that it’s not rained a drop, that it’s hot as hell, that it’s the el Nino effect ( or la Nina I can’t tell the difference between either!!) I hope you guys are happy now. It’s literally been pouring buckets these past few days  and hopefully the rains will fall in the reservoirs that need them and not the roads that protest!

The Mumbai rains have a strange violent beauty to them with their big, fat raindrops that come lashing down in sheets of water that ting ting tong tong all day long. And when the skies have emptied out their fullness, it slows down to a pitter patter gently settling on your glistening hair
The fierce winds that make the palm trees bend, rip open raincoats, and blow away roof tops with gusts of wind that turn umbrellas inside out and leave you drenched no matter what. The puddles of water with gurgling bubbles and ripples that greet the rivulets of brown gushing down the hills.
Crowded roads with cars creeping slowly, cheek by jowl as wipers sweep the drops of rain that make the street a Monet landscape, impressionist watercolours in shades of grey.
The squish of  shoes squelching water and squirmy toes as you wade in  water above your knees.
Or maybe just a walk down Marine Drive pelted with waves that come crashing through
Past dogs that shiver pitifully or lovers dancing in the rain.
Returning home to a steaming hot shower to wash off road  smells and warm the bones now cold and numb; to ease the crinkles of wet fingers that curl around a cup of tea.
Perhaps some coffee or a hot fiery rassam that makes your nose drip like a rain drop
and onion bhajias or soggy toast
A thin film of damp which traps the dust on the window panes and table tops for you to doodle time away.
Watching chick flicks on tv all snuggled up in bed or chatting on the phone for hours instead.

p.s. Claude Monet was an iconic French Impressionist Artist. Check out everything about him here .