I wake up to an extremely lazy Monday morning, the most hated day of the week. The sunshine girl on morning radio quips something smart about rains and administration, and goes ahead to announce that the Central Railway is struggling to survive the wrath of Rain Gods. I remember some high school quote about dark clouds and silver linings
I call up few friends and we unilaterally declare a holiday. Everyone in Mumbai, particularly in the suburbs are skeptical about rains after 26th July, when the whole state was flooded, and any signs of heavy rains implies a break.
I grab something to eat while watching the sloppy news channels beam same old news. What the hell. Irregular showers splatter on the window panes, producing melodious beats, and suddenly I am inspired to play the Sitar. Alas I don’t know raga Malhar yet.
The showers slow down for a moment and I snatch my beloved camera, eager to go out and try to shoot something good. I’m confronted by a puddle full of toads, some abnormally grown shrubs and an army of snails determined to devour anything green. Fantastic.
I consider myself lucky and start clicking, whilst the Gods up there have a different plan. It starts pouring, my battries die down and the electricity supply trips. Coincidence? Lovely!
The day ends but the snails are still hooked on to an amazing race to reach the top.
What a peaceful life.