Mumbai rain- Story of a Raindrop

 

Dear Rain Lovers,

Nice to meet you fellow rain lover. My name is ‘boond’ and I am a little water droplet. Now I hope we all know how a water cycle works, don’t we? You have time and time again drawn the picture of a mountain, sun, rain and an ocean with cloudsand numerous arrows. Ring a bell? Yeah. That’s it.

Fast forward to the water cycle, I am a tiny droplet falling on earth. And I am falling from clouds, a lovely place; I must suggest.  I see boxes, as I look down. They look like Lego bricks but as I get closer to the surface, it turns out they are not boxes, they are houses and some vast ones are known are apartment complexes; Huge and mighty.  I am caught by black darkness and a bad stench during my descent. It smells disgusting. I try to look around to find my self in a puddle, bursting with a billion little droplets like me. And I wasn’t the only one with a dirty big pool. There were billions of them there, as far as I could see, there we concrete pieces and broken road and honking vehicles, splashing me all around, as I danced from tire to tire, it became fun and scary.

Potholes-Mumbai rain
Potholes- Mumbai Rain

By the way, I guess I forgot to tell you, I was in ‘Mumbai: the city of dreams’ and my dream was to reach the ocean and find peace, but before that, I had a big journey.

Mumbai rain
Mumbai meri Jaan

I stuck to a tire of a car and started my tour trip in Mumbai, the car halted somewhere and I saw pool of water and unstoppable rain, it felt like we were stuck there forever, I heard the halt was because a bridge had collapsed in Andheri, well it was scary, the clouds should take note too, but they showed no mercy they rained and rained and millions of my tiny friends jumped around, jumping at people, making people flich as they stuck and stained their clothes of dirt, it was so crowded and wet. The road was broken and the path jammed. I also heard the driver say that there is a possible threat of a flood. I wasn’t scared, in fact, a flood would help me reach the ocean faster.

Mumbai rain

Anyway, I jumped to the top of the bridge that we were crossing, namely the sea link. I held on to a pillar and looked at this mighty city, that had the power of breaking and building dreams here, covered in fear, cold and fog, trying to stop the water from destroying it, kneeling down on its feet.

I decided to move again by jumping on another vehicle this time it was a motorcycle, a fast one. I guess they called them ‘Royal Enfield’, it made a lot of noise and added to the drama of the city, the fast pace of the bike hurt my tiny eyes and I couldn’t see anything cleary but, not for long. it was halted at a traffic jam. next, I climed to a lady who was busy and worried because of losing a business deal because of the halted train. I was growing fond of her as I spent an hour with her on the train to Virar, halted because of the broken trail line and ruins. everyone was evacuated to the station, there i sat staring at what felt like a flood of humans. Tensed, worried but unstoppable, fighting the weather. Fighting the Mumbai rain, nothing seemed to stop them and I was not going to stop either. I had to reach the ocean.

Mumbai rain

I hitched a ride on the wet suitcase of a businessman, a minute later he got a call and started sobbing, he is devasted and I wondered why. some time later I heard him telling his overseas living daughter that her mother’s car’s wheel slipped because of the wet roads and she died hitting her car in a tree and casusing a blast. I was terrified and filled with regret. It’s the million tiny droplets like us that make this city worst, that’s what I thought.

Soon enough, I started flowing with a puddle of other dirty and filthy droplets and something called a ‘sewer’, and just when I thought I had seen worst, I realised that it was not the worst . The sewer passed through something called a ‘slum’ and I saw the worst. People were trying to collect the water from the rain because it’s the only clean water they had, little toddlers were dancing in puddles, splashing dirt, and water; sailing paper boats. others were trying to every piece of tin and plastic to stop the leakage in their hut.

I thought, how this rain, this sprinkle could be a monster and swallow happiness or be an angel and spread smiles. It’s just how we molded it and lived with it. With that thought, I finally dropped into the ocean. To be honest, it was dirtier that expected.Mumbai rains are devastation as well as magic, choose your movie and press play.

Your sincerely,

Boond.

Comments

  1. This is a impressive story. Thanks!

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