It’s here! It’s finally here! No, not the Apocalypse. (The Apocalypse happened last week when due to low disk space, I was forced to delete some “important video files”. *Sob*). I’m talking about the monsoon – a time for poetry, for love, loneliness and water-borne diseases.
No seriously, I love the monsoon. In fact, if monsoon were a woman, I’d fall for her in a snap. And who wouldn’t? Think about it. She’d be wild, delicate, sensuous and beautiful, all at once. Plus she’d be wet ALL the time.
Of course, when I say ‘monsoon’, I mean the Navi Mumbai monsoon, and not its Mumbai counterpart. Yes, the two are different – if the Mumbai monsoon were a woman, she’d smell of overflowing gutters and would scrap people like ‘Dillistud’ and ‘bedrocker69’ for fraandship. And even they would refuse her. (Well, maybe ‘Dillistud’ wouldn’t, but then Dilli men are known to lech at anything even remotely female, including hairclips.)
No siree, if you really want to enjoy the monsoon, come over to Navi Mumbai and do as the locals do – gaze out the window, watch the rain lash against an expanse of half-constructed malls, and exclaim, ” When WILL that mall open? I’m bored.”
Let’s face it – there’s not much to do during the monsoon. The internet behaves like a stubborn mule, the city police messages you to stay indoors (‘or else…’)and after a while, the sight of all that water gets really monotonous. The poet S.T Coleridge aptly summed up this frustration when he wrote:
“Water water everywhere
Makes me wanna pee.”
Weirdly enough, the news suddenly becomes the most-watched programme on television. And it’s fun too. Of course, you have to be somewhat sadistic to enjoy watching hapless souls battle the rains. But worry not – if you’re reading this column, you’re already on your way to moral degradation. And now, it’s time for (cue in sweeping 20th Century-type music here)
News For The Extremely Bored
Good Evening, and welcome to News For The Extremely Bored. I’m Chudaman Sumdipatti Rao. Tonight, we bring you a special feature on the tree that uprooted and ran away in panic when Aishwarya tried to marry it. “How can I marry a girl who is more wooden than me?”, were reportedly its last words before it fled.
But first, our main story. The monsoons are finally here and everyone is rejoicing at the prospect of wanton flooding and bosses/professors being washed away into the sewers to become rat food. Our weatherman Bobby Badal will now tell you what to expect in the coming days.
Thank you Chudaman. As you can see, there’s a huge depression region building up over the Bay of Bengal. Preliminary reports indicate that this may or may not worsen over the next few days, with a hitherto unexamined possibility of heavy or light precipitation in certain parts of the country now becoming an ambigous uncertainty, to be determined stochiastically by the Anthony Gonsalves Level Of Haemoglobin In The Atmosphere. Mumbaikars are therefore advised to stay indoors on all days that rhyme with ‘Gay’. Back to you Chudaman.
I see. Some dark times ahead indeed. Let’s move to our correspondent Pinky, who is standing outside Mumbai’s infamous Milan Subway. Pinky, what’s the situation like over there?
(dressed in a pink windcheater, looking like a member of the Ku Klux Klan: Paris Hilton Division)
Yes Chudaman. I’m standing outside Milan Subway, and as you can see, it is entirely flooded. We believe this happened because a stray dog piddled in it during high tide. The flood has left thousands of people stranded, all of whom insist on crowding around me and looking at the camera. Like that’s gonna help!
What has happened here is that Gravity, along with the Cosmic Attraction Force Of The Potholes, has resulted in the formation of huge Black Holes that..
Random Black Guy In The Crowd:
Hey watch it! How would you like it if someone talked about YOUR anatomy on TV huh?
Err..yes..well..hehe. As you can see, Chudaman, the people are quite angry here. Who will come to their aid? Is the government even listening? Why does this happen year after year? Why can’t you give me the bloody nightlife beat? WHY DON’T YOU GET OFF YOUR COMFY STUDIO CHAIR AND GET YOUR BUTT HERE, YOU FILTHY PIECE OF…(sound goes off)
We appear to be having some technical problems. Now would be a good time to go watch some of those “important video files.”
This article was published in JAM Magazine, dated 30 June – 14 July 2007.