But if you’re going to romanticise something, why rain? Just why? If you live in a city then all it does is take a massive dump all over your day and it’s downright depressing. 

 

What exactly is so great about taking off your shoes after a long day of work only to find the cast of Spongebob Squarepants colonising the spaces between your toes? You step out of the house and spontaneously take jalsamadhi in your own sweat. And let’s not talk about uncles and their raised armpits in the metro. 

The monsoons bring out the worst in all of us, literally dripping out of every pore. 

“But wait!” (This is you by the way) “It’s not all that bad. It makes things cleaner! It’s like mother nature giving the world a shower!” 

Oh really? So then I probably imagined the water flowing out of the gutter into the street I guess, and the two hours of jammed traffic it caused. So where did all that water go? Nowhere. It’s still there, an accumulated cesspool of all things unholy.

And if you happen to be on foot, then God have mercy on your soul. 

Watching out for every wet patch in the earth, skipping brick to brick over the miniature ponds of sewage while keeping a lookout for the infrequent motorist who will splash you with puddle water and leave you a soaking wet mess on the side of the road. Welcome to Minesweeper: Life Edition. 

Even the simple pleasure of a cigarette, the one moment of reprieve in the middle of a busy day, gets taken away from you like candy from a baby and you’re left with a stick of wet tobacco and broken dreams.  

So if you like to romanticise the rain because it’s ‘cool to be poetic’, the next time there’s a downpour I invite you to actually go outside and stand in it. Hopefully you’ll catch pneumonia and learn your lesson.

And for God’s sake stop updating your Facebook with “It’s raining” statuses. Weather forecast chal raha hai kya? Aankhein hain sabke paas.