Rainy, rainy day. Gray skies overhead. Water trickling down the windowpanes. Finally its cool enough to feel comfortable in your skin. For me, the first real monsoon day in Calcutta. That familiar difficulty in getting out of bed and getting dressed for work on a day that seduces you with its promise of cloud cocoons and lightning heartbeats. That familiar difficulty in getting a cab, waiting under a dripping umbrella with a laptop on my back watching the world rush by and feeling strangely distanced. I feel like I might keep waiting there forever – the rain flirting with me, getting into my shoes, breezing across my face, splashing onto my hands as I try to hail yet another cab.
I wonder what’s the worst that can happen if I just go back home and get into bed. I muse about the unfairness of a life where I run in an endless circle and let a marvellous monsoon pass me by.