THE UNBEARABLE WETNESS OF BEING

It's been raining pretty much continuously over the week end. Overcast skies have been shedding their watery burdens on us.

Trains are either running late or not at all.

Auto-rickshaws are either refusing to ply or over-charging diabolically.

Buses are either stuck full of people or stuck in potholes-disguised-as-puddles.

Clothes are not drying.

Courier services are not delivering on time. When I had a spat with Pafex couriers (a branch of the famed Fedex) about a parcel that was supposed to reach me a week back, the rain was blamed. But when I saw the poor drenched delivery person, clutching my bubble-wrapped parcel in his wet, wet hands, I hadn't the heart to rant at him.

If this was Kolkata drowning under non-stop rains, people would have woken up on Monday, peeped through the window pane, yawned, dived under the bedsheet, and curled up for another snooze till mid-morning and a cup of tea beckoned.

But this is Mumbai.

So we wake up.

See the rain (in fact, can't see too far out of the window because of the rain).

Heat water in the geyser, take a warm/hot/boiling bath (WHY? WHY? WHY TAKE A WARM BATH 365 DAYS A YEAR, IRRESPECTIVE OF HEAT AND SUMMER AND SEASONS????AND WHY TAKE A HOT BATH WHEN YOU ARE GOING TO STAY WET AND MISERABLE FOR THE REST OF THE DAY ANYWAY?)

Gobble down breakfast, wrap up in raincoats, unfurl our umbrellas (all the better to poke other people in crowded buses and trains).

And step out into the friendly neighbourhood ankle/knee/waist-deep puddle.

That's Mumbai for you!!! The city that never sleeps. Also, the city that never stays dry.