Too soon for a Monsoon post.

Hey guys, how are y’all feeling today? There’s just something about the changing weather that’s making a lot of people around me get the flu, it’s not even funny how many times I’ve said “Bless You” over the last couple of hours. Really.

Now for the awkward segue to the reason for this post, it’s about my favorite part of the year. That’s a difficult choice to make, because asking that question is like asking one to pick a favorite sensory organ! Every quarter, by convention signifies a certain stage of development, and seasons have their own little whims, case in point all the random climatic changes the planet’s witnessed recently. Every year is like a life cycle, being born in January, growing up in June, falling in love through August and September, getting older in October and fading away in December, only to start again at January.

But if I had to, like at gunpoint (and I pray that the person holding the gun agrees with me) then I’d have to pick the middle of the year, like the June to October phase, the Monsoon (in India) phase. I don’t know about you, but there’s something entirely magical about the way the rain pours, drenches your body, and frees your soul, slowly at first and then all at once. There are a certain set of people who consider the rain as their safe place, to heal from the hurt, to escape the pain and get lost in a sense of cathartic release, and then there are some who dance in the rain. What about me? I’m more of a dancer in the rain. I’d always been particularly fond of the monsoon, but somehow fell in love with it, much later.

Until 2007 it was only about getting to stay home from school and getting drenched to the bone, to catch a fever, and then staying home from school. But then something changed. Sometime along the early monsoon of 2007 I was walking home after a particularly bad day. Music pumping through my veins, I walked with drooping shoulders and eyes cast downwards, then it rained. Suddenly my eyes were skyward and before I knew it, I was a hundred burdens lighter, dancing my way back home. Somewhere between the smell of wet earth after the first shower, the little puddles of muddy rainwater, the heavy skies, the flies and mosquitoes, the persistent smell of Odomos (mosquito repellent cream) in every blanket, the samose/pakore aur masala chai, the spicy road side chaat, the curling up in a ball on the window sill and reading, the early morning strong coffee with a hint of rain, the late night thunder, the impossible traffic jams, the raincoats and colourful umbrellas, the inevitable change of clothes, and persistent Rudolph flu, I fell in love with the monsoon, slowly at first, and then all at once.

P.s. This is NOT what I look like, this is Google's representation of what I might look like if I did that. :P
P.s. This is NOT what I look like, this is Google’s representation of what I might look like if I did that. :P

Hope this made for an interesting read.

I’m gonna push off now, Okaybye!

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