Pitter-patter, raindrops, Falling from the sky ...

“Meghan chya baasuritun yei surmayi wara.

Paaneri motyan cha jasa waahta zara.

Mrudgandh olsar saryanna pyara.

Asa payalya pawsacha anand nyara ho anand nyara...

Pahilya pawasachya subhechya!”

This pleasant, lovely SMS hit my mobile inbox with the first drops of rain hitting the roof of my car when I was driving on way home after a long day in office. Yes – the rains hit Mumbai !

For the past few months, the weather in Mumbai has been the most unkind. Predictably Hot – extremely hot. Absolutely still nights without a single cool breeze to blow away the dust finally settled on leaves, roofs, roads, buildings after endless journeys in the concrete jungle.

I was on my way back from work and had just pulled in to my parking space in my residential complex, when I heard the PLOP sound of a water drop hitting the roof of my car. Some random sequential PLOPS followed, few and far in between, but the sound was very sweet.

Slowly the Plops changed from sequential to random and fast pitter-patter – the sweet sound of rain drops.

“Aaj khush to bohot hoge tum,

kyonki..barish jo ho rahi hai

Aur barish mein

sabi MENDAK khush hi hote hai...”

As I got out of the car, the slow drizzle started to catch speed and soon what started off with fancy dot designs far apart on the dusty tar surface, soon connected to each other hiding the dust beneath and giving the wonderful, aroma of the soil. The hot and humid smell of the earth in the first rains. Nothing can smell better in nature. (D&G, Gucci, Boss don’t compare to this intoxicating aroma of the earth - our planet).

The rains arrived in style - complete with light and sound show to announce its arrival. The dark evening skies lit up with lightening, and a mighty thunder following the wild, unpredictable streaks of bright lightening. Just like a small naughty child which in the flash of a moment can do anything in its own mind.

“Godigulabi an thodasa rusva,

khup sare prem an thodasa ragva,

nako antar kadhi nako durava,

pavsala lajvel itka asava maitri madhye olava!

Pahilya PAVASA Shubhechya”

For the next few months, the rains will decide the fate of an entire population. Some places it will bring floods, some places it just wont show up and some places just wink and go away.

All I hope and pray is that the rain God is kind on us, that no farmer has to commit suicide for lack of water or for excess of it.

I pray that all the lakes in our city get filled so that the city peaceful can carry through the year and not have another burden laded on to it – like the shortage of electricity which we almost missed this year.

And I pray that the city does not flood like it did – even if for human failures in cleaning up the Mithi or for not constructing the new drainage or whatever else that these politicians can pick up and throw at each other.

I peacefully watched the rains for a few moments – thanked God for his kindness, for his reminder that he exists as nature, I closed the window, to dive back in to my own world. The rain drops plopping on my car and the SMS messages competing with them to hit my inbox, from happy people, who I am sure took the opportunity to step out of their busy lives to welcome this pleasant change and also took a moment to remember people in their lives and to share their joy with them, even if just with an SMS.

“Bhai: are circuit ye barish k waqt bijli kyon chamakti hai?

Circuit: bhai bole to uparwala torch marke dekhta hoga k sala kahi sukha to nahi rahgaya. HAPPY MONSOON”

I was all smiling to myself – for I know there will be days when the rains will be in all its fury and I will have to pull myself through some feet of water to drive my new car to high ground, my bike to high ground.

I smiled for I know, there will be a day when it will be too romantic and wet outside to be able to go to office and I will be able to sit on my window staring at the rain, a hot mug of tea flavored with some spices and a plate of hot kanda – batata bhaji , vada pau to accompany it. I also know Eesha will be there besides me, copying my every move, sipping tea like I do and eating bhaji like I do.

And life will go on – with these small gifts from God.