The monsoon has finally whipped into Mumbai !
Rain, glorious rain is lashing the city, washing off the filth from the streets and dust from the leaves.
The fiery gul mohur petals are flying on the breeze and carpeting the streets.
Trees have got their hair washed squeaky-clean and are seducing the wind in a tempestuous salsa. Outside my window, the coconut trees are tossing their mane like a mad woman, as the wild wind tries to rip them out by the root !
All around me is the roar of the sea champing to gatecrash the party.
And I, I sit cocooned in my little home enjoying the catharsis of the refreshing monsoon after a hot, sticky, energy-sapping summer.
Waiting, for its sowing time. Time for new beginnings when the earth waits for an excuse to sprout new life in ploughed fields and discarded junk alike.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow, I will sow me some vegetables. Bottle gourds, okra, rambling beans, and more. Then I'll coax some flowers from dahlias and cosmos and zinnias, I'm sure.
But for now, I'll lean back in my comfortable chair and watch the dance of the monsoons in Mumbai.