It starts with a drizzle. A harmless, poetic sprinkle. I look up at the sky, contemplating my plans, my outfit choices, my destiny. And then, BAM, it’s a full-fledged monsoon madness. The rains have arrived, and so begins the psychological breakdown.
Stage 1: Denial
“It’s just light rain. Totally manageable.”
No umbrella? No problem. I step out bravely, convincing myself that my optimism alone will shield me. But Mumbai does not reward the foolish. Within minutes, I am drenched. My carefully planned hairstyle? A distant memory. My jeans? Clinging to me like a regret I cannot shake. But still, I persist. Denial is powerful.
Stage 2: Anger
“Oh, COME ON!”
The roads have dissolved into swimming pools. My driver refused to risk driving the car into the rapidly rising water level. My auto-rickshaw driver has declared my commute a mission impossible and refuses to take me. My shoes are making noises best described as “moist.” I glare at the sky, as if my rage alone will stop the rain. It does not. It mocks me instead, intensifying like a cruel joke.
Stage 3: Bargaining
“Just let me get home dry. That’s all I ask.”
I make promises to the Universe. I will give up eating sweets. I will stop loving Salman Khan. I will appreciate sunny days more. Just, please, let me reach home without having to wade through unidentified puddles. The Universe pays no heed.
Stage 4: Depression
“There is no escape. My soul is damp.”
I accept my fate. My socks are soaked. My umbrella is useless. My rickshaw driver has tripled the fare. I embrace the misery fully. A single tear rolls down my cheek, blending seamlessly with the rain. I stare out at the waterlogged streets, contemplating the meaning of life.
Stage 5: Acceptance
“Might as well enjoy it.”
The worst has passed. My clothes are ruined, but my spirit remains. I buy steaming hot street-side bhutta (corn), and watch the city embrace the monsoon. Kids splash in puddles, chai vendors do brisk business, and even I must admit that the rains do have a certain charm. I forgive them. Until tomorrow, when they betray me again.
Stage 6: Affection (Bonus Stage—because let’s be honest, we always come back to the rains)
The puddles may test my patience, and my shoes may never recover. However, there is something undeniably magical about the monsoon. The city hums differently under gray skies, strangers bond over shared umbrellas, and suddenly, life feels a little more cinematic. The chai tastes better. The conversations linger longer. The world slows down just enough to remind me: maybe, just maybe, I don’t mind getting a little drenched after all.
This blog post is part of ‘Blogaberry Dazzle’
hosted by Cindy D’Silva and Noor Anand Chawla
in collaboration with Ratna Prabha.
I loved your monsoon saga—it had me nodding through every stage, especially Denial and Bargaining when I’m trying to dodge rain and pretend I didn’t forget my umbrella again! That first drizzle description was poetic and perfect, like the calm before one of those dramatic Mumbai outbursts. The “angry sky” moment made me laugh out loud—I’ve definitely felt that soggy-shoes, auto-rickshaw-refusal kind of frustration. Your Depression stage hit a little too close to home; my soul has felt as damp as the laundry on my balcony during monsoons! But Acceptance? Buying bhutta, drinking hot chai, and just letting the rain win? Total mood. And that bonus sixth stage—Affection—was the perfect wrap. There’s something about the monsoon that softens even the grumpiest of hearts. I love how you wove mood swings into such real, everyday scenes with kids, chai, and shared umbrellas. Your storytelling was so grounded and witty—I could almost feel the raindrops on my face while reading.
Wow, loved your take on the monsoon saga. It was beautiful, poetic, and absolutely true! A smile tugged at my lips the entire time while I was reading , even more at stage 6!
Well Well Well , what do we have here !
The six stages of grief so creatively modulated to the arrival of monsoons.Your description of the emotions a shower brings is almost poetic and beautiful.It was wonderful experiencing rains through your eyes/pen.
we all have cross this stage! being from anger to accepting is all. But love your take on monsoon!
How you have highlighted the emotional phases through monsoon is amazing- from denial to acceptance.
As a homemaker, living in a tier 2 city, I never had the problem of commuting in the rain. But the way you have added so many emotions to it is awesome. Somehow rains have always seemed romantic and grilled butta is the perfect way to enjoy the rains.
What a wonderfully poetic breakdown of monsoon stages! I particularly resonated with the anticipation in the ‘first showers’ and the comforting rhythm of the ‘steady rains.’ Your writing makes the seasons feel alive; it perfectly captures the soul of our rains!
This post made me smile—I’ve weathered all five monsoon stages too! The way you captured each emotional wave, from denial to full chaos, felt so real. Your words are a comforting companion for anyone navigating rainy-day moods.
It’s a love hate relationship with monsoon! Depends on where I am and where I am heading… If I am heading home, I don’t mind a bit of soaking… Because I know, a mug of hot beverage will warm me up quickly…
I actually love the rains and never bother with an umbrella. Instead, I prefer my raincoat, it gives such a sense of freedom! I enjoy everything about monsoons: the smell, the chai, the mood…except for the waterlogged streets and crazy traffic. Still, rains always lift my spirits.
I love stages 5 &6. It does come down to that. The rains are awesome, come what may and the many stages. Really enjoyed the way, you have turned the beauty out.
A song came in my mind a hindi song… Tere meri kahani nayi bang gayi, ma tera hogaya tu meri ho gayi….. I loved the way you staged the rain story with emotion, love and compassion…. Kabhi Khattii kabhi mithi wali rishta hota ha mera Barish ka sath…. Ya barish ki bunda …… zindagi ma naya ummed la ka ati ha…. but when its too much… dil kahta ha … ab to bas karona …. Phir agle saal ana….. Lovely piece I read today . Thank you soooo much
This was such a fun and relatable read! You’ve captured the chaos, charm, and chai cravings of the monsoon perfectly. Stage 3 had me nodding in agreement: been there, drenched that.
This was such a fun and relatable read dear. You’ve captured the monsoon chaos with so much wit, I could literally feel my soggy shoes while reading. Loved every stage, especially the bargaining bit… been there, done that
Oh My God how perfectly you have written the thought that lingers on us everyday every moment of the monsoon season. I read a meme that people who say they love rains are the ones who don’t step out in the chaos. But the bonus stage is definitely a secret smiling thought. I love this blog thank you for a ray of sunshine during rains!
This is so awesome. Never saw rain like this. You made me fall in love once again.
Rains are all good until we get caught in them. I really enjoyed reading your post. I have been in a similar position so many times.
Loved this monsoon saga, all the phases of the monsoon days, and how adorably you accepted and enjoyed it lastly. Loved it.
A hilarious, heartfelt monsoon rollercoaster—each stage soaked in drama and drenched in truth. From soaked jeans to soulful chai, this rainy rant captures Mumbai’s chaotic romance with the rains perfectly!
This is so true! I guess most of us go through these phases which end in accepting that the romance in monsoons exists for a reason. Nothing can beat that chai under a plastic sheet while it’s drizzling outside!
We all have that thought we love and hate the rains. I love how you’ve combined the emotions here Mayuri
Exactly what my thoughts are when monsoon hits. But I am craving for rains here in Delhi! Phew! 🙂 Love this, M!
Love your witty posts, Mayuri. Having lived in a city where the rainy season spans 9 months a year, I can so relate to this post. Particularly the bargaining.
Haha this was certainly a fun read as I sit in horrid rain-induced traffic, a long way away from my intended destination!