This monsoon is punctual with the sound of big drops falling on still water and with temporary bubbles just diminishing over surface around. A different meaning to everyone, this rain says something.
A farmer waiting for his prosperity in waiting, this rain is another hope. A Mumbaikar, travelling, juggling and wasting time in random but certain traffic, this rain is his precious time. An economist finding reasons on concerns of inflation and growth, this rain is another stats. A cricketer waiting to resume his game, this rain is spoilsport. And A frog, waiting in the deep mud, for ages (as if), to start a new season of breeding with cracking Trrr trrr.
I am no other but yet another Mumbaikar and searching my time in the traffic in same way. But I still love this rain. Hmm.. some memories..few know about that. I love watching the beauty of rain while it flows down the hill (small hills around Sanjay Gandhi National Park) near my residence making its own random way but creating a pattern.
Rain rain don’t go away. Or at least keep up your due punctuality.
I took the the promptness of monsoon in Mumbai.