Monsoon
Before the monsoon rains come really hot days. They are unbearable. Amma would look at the sky, heavy and grey, and say, “It’ll rain today.” King coconut water brings some relief, but usually the days are spent with a certain restlessness. You sit in front of the fan, realise it does no good, walk to the veranda, hope for a breeze. And then finally, like a crack of thunder – and sometimes, accompanied by thunder – the clouds finally surrender and unleash torrential rains upon on us. By then, it’s a relief, even though we know floods await us. Weather warnings will keep the fishermen away from sea. The gloom and doom of a rainy day will only be brightened by umbrellas of all colours. You feel the cold, the damp in your bones. There’s a dull ache in your joints, and your pace slows. There’s no point in rushing. That relief you felt when the heat finally let up? It’s gone now. You are impatient for those warm, dry days, when buses didn’t splash muddy water on you and you didn’t have