I love rain. I classify things into two broad categories these days -:
2.Doesn’t make sense.
Till last week, rain made sense. It’s absolutely striking to feel chilly after a humid summer day. And the grey in the skies, I don’t mind it at all. Grey is always grey, if you know what I mean. The various texts I recieve from one of my girlfriends. “The weatherrrrrr <3” (yes multiple r’s and a virtual heart, no no no.) Makes sense.
This week, I look up and ask, ‘ARE YOU KIDDING ME.’ Rains in Delhi at this time of year, crappy idea. Commonwealth for one, is making it worse. What is WITH the roads? I pass by this sorry looking building everyday on my way to college. It says “Commonwealth 2010, Dilli tayyar hai.” In front of that building, a river flows. A big open manhole full of green god-knows-what overflows. It’s almost like spray-painting a big “Uhh really not.” on that sign.
Traffic, traffic. It’s some kind of curse, almost. Whenever I’m stuck in Delhi traffic, I try to recall if I’d something really evil earlier in the day. It’s almost as bitchy as Karma, delhi traffic.
Before I come to petty things like the ruined clothes and bad hair days, I’d like to tell you, with much amour-propre that I ninja-dodged my way out of a very slatternly rain water splash today. I continue to feel cool.
The frizzy hair, the hair fall. The sticky clothes. The stinky metro rides. Worst. Monsoon. EVAR. (Ray William FTW)