Saturday, September 18th, 2004
The absolute anarchy of the rain
The first rain is a little like first love. It cools down a city smarting from the summer. Each summer, in a city where trees are felled to make room for billboards (when it should actually be the other way around), the heat gets progressively more unbearable and the rains feel ever more welcome. The city is quenched, the landscape looks scrubbed, the air is fragrant with the scent of wet earth and the puddles are awash with gulmohar petals.
But sooner or later, love hurts. The monsoon gets in the way of work, it gets in the way of play, it just plain gets in the way.
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