Tarred Rivers

All that nonsense about the city heaving a collective sigh of relief was complete shit.

Everyone did heave a sigh of relief in the first 20 minutes of the rain. But then it continued to pour. And pour. And pour.

Then drains began to overflow. The streets, roads and underpasses began to flood. Water began to leak into the interiors of homes from the nooks and crannies of balconies (trust me, my dad and I spent almost 20 minutes trying to clean up water that was leaking into the sitting room!). People were stuck in traffic jams. 45 minute journeys stretched on for 3 hours. 1 hour to 1 and a half hour journey became 5 hour journeys. Mosquitoes swarmed the streets. A part of National Highway 8 looked like a river.

The whole damn city came to a standstill. I guess it's safe to say that I don't love the monsoon as much as I thought I did.

Thank You So Much! FINALLY!

Today, God and the sky have finally obliged me.

Today, the grey sky finally unzipped it's emotionally stunted being, and unburdened itself onto the lovely city of New Delhi (and all its numerous suburbs). It exploded in a manner I have not seen in the last 3 years. Raindrops the size of coins; and when they smashed themselves into the pavements, roofs, balconies, roads and gardens of this glorious city, I think I heard a collective sigh of relief escape its many millions of residents.

My Vacation So Far

I'm up in the mountains in Kasauli with my family, which used to be a really fun thing because it usually meant hanging out with my cousins for extended periods of time and not really having to give a rat's hairy ass about what the adults say/said. But so far, only Niamat, Fateh, Gurbani and Jagat (who is 1) are here. And we're staying in a house full of 12 people. Which means that I'm always getting told about what I should and shouldn't do, and I swear to God I am going to hit someone if they don't stop.

There are so many things I want to say (mostly hatin' but whatever), and I can only formulate the thoughts if I make a list. So here we go.

Things That Have Been Annoying Me Since My Return To India Two Weeks Ago

1. The lack of rain. On Wednesday, I got excited because it began to pour. Which (I thought) would mean that the Monsoon had arrived in Delhi. Unfortunately, it rained heavily for about 15 minutes and then stopped. Which means that Gurgaon witnessed a passing cloud. Which means that I wanted to scream and curse at the sky. On Thursday, it began to rain when we were at Harshyla's in Defence Colony. This time, it went for a whole 10 minutes before it stopped. Yesterday, after I came up to Kasauli, the clouds burst above this mountain. It rained for 20 minutes. Needless to say, I want Pooja to do her rain dance again, because I want some rain goddamit!


2. Trains (and my family when they talk about trains). Train bookings are a bitch here. I can't get a train reservation for the days that I want to be in South India. Which is just great because that means that I have to fly. Which means that I have to spend more money. Fucking hell. Ordinarily, I wouldn't get worked up about this, but of course, my family is looming over me and bombarding me with all sorts of advice, left, right and center. I know they think they're being helpful, but they're only giving me a headache.


3. This burn on the inside of my lip. We went to the market here yesterday. Inevitably, we came across a man selling bhutta. I paid my Rs. 12 (rip off) and waited for him to find a good cob of corn to put on his small coal fire, and ended up waiting for a full 10 minutes because everyone else was trying to be smart with him and tell him how to do his job. Anyway. He eventually took the roasted cob off the fire, put some salt and lemon on it and handed it to me. I was completely famished, so I took at bite at it. Unfortunately for me, there was a small, tiny piece of BURNING HOT COAL lodged in between two kernels. That hit my lip and burned the inside of my mouth. I now have an ulcer on the inside of my lower lip. It's swollen and I look like an idiot.


4. The lack of good options at Sarojini Nagar. Harshyla, Pooja and I went to Sarojini Nagar on Thursday. And I was looking forward to it because who doesn't like good, wholesale clothes for cheap? It was evening time (around 6ish) so I expected the bazaar to be crowded, but we walked into a never ending throng of human flesh, bones and mal-odour that pressed onto us like mould. Which was also fine, because hey, that's just the nature of thing. But as we cruised through the market, and looked through all our options, it turned out that there was nothing worth our time and Rs.150 in the market. We came away with one to two things each. And the one thing that I took away with me, well, Harshyla and Pooja bought that shirt for themselves too.


5. Pushiness. Why the fuck does everyone have to be so pushy. Why the hell can't we discuss our plans and come to a consensus about our proposed plan of action together? People here keep trying to make everything play out their way. Including my aunt, including my cousins, including some of my friends, including those stupid people who were waiting behind (but pushed in front of) me in the line for bhutta yesterday. Next time someone is being pushy, I am going to push their heads up their asses so that the only thing they can be pushy about is figuring out how to get their stupid noggins out.

Eh. I know I'm complaining a lot, but to be honest, there have been some good things too. The food and mangoes are amazing, I've already read 6 books for fun in these past two weeks, I've (re)watched most of House seasons 1 and 2, I've already found so many leads for stuff that I can use in my History thesis (thank you Di Drumond!) and I have pretty much been eating an orange bar a day. Which definitely brightens my day, even if it is only for a minute. At least for now, there's nothing that an orange bar (or two or three) cannot cure. Even if it is only for a few minutes.

Cold, Miserable and 8000 miles away from the Monsoon

So here's the thing.

I grew up in a city where rain was a welcome relief from what seemed like the furnaces of hell. Every July, we'd all wait with bated breath for the monsoon to explode in a combination of bangs and flashes, and we'd all sigh with relief when the clouds eventually relented and unleashed their weight in precious rain on our dry, dusty city.

And the truth is, the city really came alive with the rain. Little kids would run out to play in puddles and overflowing drains; leaves that were spotted with dust and dirt finally became shiny and green again; building edifices actually managed to looked clean; the smog would disappear; and that godforsaken heat would finally dissipate, even if it was only for a few hours.

But when I come to think of it, it's really funny how I came to love the monsoon, because it can truly be a huge pain in the ass. Traffic, for one thing, comes to an absolute stand-still (I will never forget the day that my mom came home from Dhaula Kuan and announced that she might as well have gone to Jaipur that day because she had been stuck in traffic for a full three hours). The drains, for another, become raging rivers with lovely little bits and pieces of floating debris bouncing along in them, as if they were boats trying to navigate frenzied waters. Socks and shoes, for another, also become more than slightly annoying, because no matter how hard you try, they will absolutely never remain anything less than soaking wet.

But overall, I think that I loved the monsoon mostly because, despite the rain, it remained warm, and I could go about my daily business without resorting to sweaters, jackets, wind-cheaters and other cold weather paraphernalia. More often than not, I would prefer to wear flip-flops because it meant that I wouldn't have soaking wet socks, and also because I could actually wear them without having my feet fall off from cold and frostbite.

Which brings me to what I absolutely hate about rain in Claremont, and places other than India in general: it's fucking cold! SERIOUSLY. I absolutely hate the rain when it makes me this cold and this miserable. I especially hate it when I have to stand in it to wait in line to watch a speaker who insulted pretty much everything I believe in. I really hate it when it makes me sick and keeps me sick. And I absolutely detest it when I'm supposed to be in a place that doesn't receive rain at all!

Ordinarily, I would not complain about it if it were the torrential monsoon rain that I remember and love. I would not complain about it if this place was prepared for it and if there weren't gigantic puddles and raging rivers on every major street crossing. I would not complain about it if I had a rain coat and rain boots. But I don't. And it's cold. And it's wet. And I'm miserable. And I'm freezing. And I HATE having to walk through it to get to class.

So no. I will not stop complaining until it stops to rain, or until it gets warm in spite of the rain. I will not stop bitching and moaning, and if you're going to hate, I'd say you should step to the left. Or go drown yourself in one of the many rivers that are forming on Columbia street.