I live in the outskirts of a semi-desert. It usually doesn’t rain much here. And when it does, it’s seldom anything bigger than a few drizzles. In fact, it didn’t shower at all for a few years in the earlier part of this decade. When it finally rained one day, I couldn’t remember whether I had an umbrella!
This year though it has been different. Pleasantly, it has rained quite regularly. And not just drizzles. Some days, you can actually call it a pour. No, it’s not quite the monsoon. How can it be when the temparature outside is in the single digits? It is, of course, monsoon in Desh. As I look outside my window and see a barren, red earth getting soaked, I imagine clouds gathering over a bustling city.
Dear reader, let’s forget our troubled politics today, and fantasise about a monsoon day in the city.
