The Rains of Mumbai

By Zelam Thanawala

It's four months of chaos and mayhem

But no one would want it any other way!

The rains of Mumbai have that effect,

We would choose them any day!

It starts with the enchanting petrichor

That soothes the earth's core.

Then it drenches each leaf, each rock,

You can almost hear the monsoon enter with a knock.

Once you admire the nature around,

The next thing you hear is the traffic's sound.

Moving at a snail's pace,

It's like 'who's the slowest' race.

The instant honking and the slippery road,

The hawkers running for shelter with all their load,

Sometimes it floods in the very first rain!

Then we start cursing the government again.

At times like this, the most amazing fragrance comes from the vada pav cart,

A cup of cutting chai can't be far apart!

A maze of umbrellas go across the street,

How we all manage to walk through it, it's indeed a feat!

The morning rush hour and a hurry to reach

Intensifies further with a heavier shower each.

Soon we get the feeling of living on the moon,

Potholes as big as craters,

A ride through these makes one swoon!

And one day for sure the rain floods the land,

We call it God's hand.

But the truth is our city is like a castle made of sand.

And we hang onto to dear life with a tiny hair strand.

Yet when this monsoon comes

We welcome it with all our heart,

For any Mumbaikar it is an inseparable part!

This cozy rain is what kills the heat,

Year after year as it rains

We rejoice, curse, sigh, smile and repeat!

By Zelam Thanawala