There have been a few days of heavy rain and high winds but I am assured this is not the Monsoon….
I beg to differ.
I say the Monsoon is upon us. Predictions as to when the Monsoon would start were many and very specific – Monday at 2:00pm, Sunday at 7:00pm, next week Wednesday…..They were as numerous as they were inaccurate. Quite frankly the Monsoon will start when it’s good and ready. Well, that time is now.
Yesterday was the first day of near constant rain. The day was grey, the birds sat sodden in the trees and the sea churned and frothed like a Mocca Chocolatte.
When the rain stops and the clouds lift, everything looks clean and you can see clearly into the distance. A light which I thought came from a building is actually the flare from a refinery…A ship on the horizon is not a ship but the oil refinery Bombay Heights (yes, Bombay Heights…what a great name).
The normally passive and tranquil Arabian Sea is putting on quite a wave display, making the Haji Ali walkway a test of bravery and sure-footedness.
I haven’t noticed locals making any real wardrobe concessions for the rain. There are a few umbrellas but other than that I’m not seeing raincoats or welly boots…although the thought of wearing a raincoat and wellies in the heat makes me think of steam cooked food!
I haven’t pinned down my sartorial plan of attack. Last week, I wore 3/4 length gym trousers and flip flops to meditation class. Wet feet and flip flops result in the flip flop fandango. Feet slipping and squelching from side to side, toes gripping for stability and the walk of a drunken sailor trying to pass a sobriety test. The backs of my legs were covered in mystery muck….that is as far as I want to consider what the ingredients of mystery muck are. I see the stuff on the roads when they’re dry – it’s best not to dwell on what makes up the soupy liquid.
“It’s not a problem” I thought. The place where the class is held has a bathroom, I’ve left plenty of time to wash my feet and get cleaned up before class. So, flip flops washed, legs cleaned, I sat in reception until the beginning of the class. When I got up there was gritty muck where I’d been sitting and where I’d put my bag….oooops! Mumbai muck reaches parts other muck does not reach.
Yesterday I tried a different tack. Jeans and gortex trainers and an umbrella.
“Are you going trekking ma’am?” asked the doorman…”Erm, no…just the market”
Well I was drier, but my feet were roasting and an umbrella is not the best accessory when you’re trying to get round the fruit and veg stalls.
When we arrived in India, a lot of people said how challenging the Monsoon could be.
Today I didn’t need the AC or a fan, the temperature was perfect. The sound of the rain was soothing and therapeutic. The view from my window was of stillness; very few cars on the road, even less people and the odd soggy bird flying to a drier perch. Lovely.
Lets revisit this post in a months time….