Monsoon Memories and the 2 Ladies

I’ve been accused of not writing of late. It isn’t my fault really – work has been hectic and I have dedicated my free time to the pursuit of film watching. I’ve seen depressing ones, and brainless chick flicks, and nail-biting adventure, and the ones with mind games, and the ones with ‘only’ conversations and the ones you just watch because there is nothing else to watch. I recommend Lemony Snicket's: A Series of Unfortunate Events, that I watched the 2nd time over. The rest of them were crap and mostly not great. Oh and the recent film P.S. I Love You – didn’t impress me expect that one scene where the 2 walk together in Ireland. So yes, that’s why I’ve been busy and also I have got a haircut after weeks of contemplating to get one. Yes I like it, its mad and untidy and I feel a tad younger again. (things people do when they are heading for the big quarter of a century, I say).

Apart from that, I’m looking for a flat. I’m having space issues. I’m feeling unloved. I’m missing my ma. I’m buying too much red. I'm addicted to mint tea. I’m looking to buy flip-flops. And yes, monsoons have returned with all its flourish and nuisance. Though some days I really love the city – the breeze is cool and the leaves are greener – but on other days, I miss my regular bhelpuri wala who seems to have disappeared thanks to the constant pouring and the occasional flooding.

Yesterday, Mumbai was sinking, official holiday was declared after I already landed up in office (this only happens to me), roads were blocked and the news channels took great pleasure in over-hyping the whole situation. And they do that so much – every time the usual clogging, blocking, splashing, showering happens, the aaj taks of the world exaggerate it to “Floods in Mumbai – Daily Routine Stopped” blah blah – and thanks to that my relatives / friends / everyone who hasn’t ever stayed in Mumbai calls and asks me if I am safe and in my 7th floor home, safe from the torrential downpour and the watery menace! And to think today we are ALL back in office again and the sun was out at 10 am – too much fuss over nothing!

But monsoons always makes me nostalgic – last year I shared the season with Miss P who had to brave the Dadar ka keechad daily and who underwent multiple pedicures with me and Nimpipi with her banana chappals walking tall in the mucky Chruchgate station and hollering at me to stop popping open the damn umbrella at every slight drizzle, and many others who are not as significant enough to make me still smile at a year old memory. Sigh. And this monsoon I feel rather lonely – I crave for company to go to Cha Bar (yes Nimps, I finally found where it is and have been haunting it with its 86 flavours of tea ever since), I miss someone to sit at the special table at Mondys and sharing a beer with, I miss just staying in my room with hot tea and endless things to chat about, I miss taking a walk on Marine Drive talking about everything clean and dirty – so yes, I miss my lady friends and they both had to go away to Delhi. Woe is me!

But it’s Mumbai for another 2 years and we shall be brave and we shall send out weepy-needy holiday invitations to them – come back, come for a while, come for ever, come visit, come stay, come and stuff some memories in my box again, come before the monsoon season is gone!