I was enjoying the breeze at the Ernakulam Boat Jetty on the evening of June 6. The monsoon was supposed to hit Kerala that day, and the inky clouds gathered over the bay swelled even as I watched, darkening both sky and earth. I clicked the above pic. A little later, while I was sipping coffee in the near-by India Coffee House, the downpour began.
I walked out into the rain, armed with my umbrella.A strong breeze played along the street, whipping the rain before it and slamming raindrops into my body. I walked on, and was thoroughly drenched by the time I got home.
The next morning I read in the newspaper that the monsoon had made landfall in Kerala the previous evening. I had witnessed its arrival in Cochin; no, more than that, I had registered its arrival on my bare skin. I slipped on the pair of jeans I’d worn the previous day. In the auto that ferries my sons to school, I asked my younger son, who was sitting next to me, to feel my jeans. “Wet,” he observed. I next took out my camera and showed them the above photo. They liked it. “The water you felt on my jeans just now came from these clouds you see in the pic,” I said. My younger son smiled at my flight of poetic fancy.
Monsoon scenes flashed past us as the auto raced toward the school. As we sped along, I clicked the pic below, which amused the boys. They found the erect umbrella rooted in the crook of the elbow funny.
Children sporting colorful raincoats on the way to school brighten the gray streets on monsoon mornings.
And this flooding is the inevitable price we pay for the monsoon. The authorities just can’t seem to fix the city’s drainage system. Some day …