Days without you III

Mumbai has become hot...really hot. Today while I was coming back from my office canteen to my building I reckoned how excruciating the heat has become. The dry, parched land and the blinding sun flashing ruthlessly on you is too much to take.  I went out with an office colleague. She had some stuff to buy and I tagged along for buying few goodies. But stepping out of air conditioned office became a huge mistake. M kept on talking about her visitors at home, how her fridge went bad last night and how Gujarat is hotter than any other place.  After walking for sometimes and then settling for the shuttle she reckoned that the jerking sun has become a streak of fire and if we do not run for our lives, we will roast.

I am waiting for the monsoon. I am desperately waiting for V to come back here, in our home. And when rain comes, we will sit on our wooden chairs in our huge balcony… we will talk weather and will admire the small trinkets of clouds and small puddles which will appear because of heavy rains. We will listen to the pitter-patter of rains and will adoringly glance at each other. Then V and I will sip on our hot coffee porcelain mugs and will think how beautiful life is.

My fancy head is accumulating throngs of wants… they are piling faster than some tarantine movie.