I hate monsoon. No, I really do hate it. Every year I wish we weren't an agrarian economy and weren't situated such that we receive such rainfall. Might I add, of all the places, in Mumbai!
Back in junior college (11th & 12th), since I rarely attended college, my daily routine was waking up at 8.30 am, reading the paper and enjoying my coffee until 9.30, having breakfast, showering around 10.30-11 and then watching my sitcom till 6 pm (no kidding). This also included around an hour and a half of talking over the phone with my best friend and browsing the web and, of course, Facebook. During the monsoon, the routine changed a bit. Waking up at 9 am, enjoying coffee in the balcony with the newspaper till 10. Then, talking over the phone with my friends and having breakfast simultaneously, etc, etc. In short, during the monsoon, one of my routine tasks included exclaiming how beautiful the rains were, how green nature looked once it stopped raining, enjoying the smell of the Earth after a downpour, how chilled the air became after a shower. I really did enjoy those moments.
Now that I am working (haha!), I try really hard to enjoy all these things, to no avail. How do you expect me to enjoy any of this? When I get out of the house, I have to wear my windcheater as well as carry an umbrella and still get drenched in my bottom half, when I walk the streets, I have to wade through waters continuously thinking about water snakes and all those weird animals, I have to make sure that I don't stumble on any pothole or fall into some manhole and be lost forever, I have to travel by public transport for almost 3 hours (journey that usually takes 2 hours) to reach the client's place, I have to bear the brunt of the full blast AC on my wet self and shiver like a puppy, I have to endure bad hair everyday, I have to be okay with not getting to leave early when there is a downpour, I reach home by 8-8.30, take a shower (with Dettol, no less), have dinner, sit and chat with my family until 10 and I fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow. I am too tired to do anything else anyway, why try!?
Half the time I just wish my grandfather were filthy rich, leaving behind all his wealth for me. Enough for me to not work and just travel my whole life (I will most definitely write about it). That way, I can skip monsoon anywhere, anytime. Or, get married to a filthy rich guy and be a stay at home wife with no kids. That way, all I have to do everyday is wake up, say bye bye to hubby, curl up in bed with a cup of coffee and watch my sitcom while enjoying the splatter of rain outside (no household work, filthy rich husband, remember? We'll have maids)! Aah, wishful thinking and most importantly, loss of independence. Nah, let me just focus on getting out of this place (you can take "place" to mean absolutely anything!)!!