A Thing Of Hope

Sand.Salt.And Hope.

I woke up to this awesome smell that’s distinctly Mumbai. If you have ever lived a Mumbai summer, you know exactly what this smell feels like. As you surrender to the python-like humidity in the air, with no saviour in sight, you reminisce of a monsoon gone by… of a windy day walking on the wet roads of Marine Drive… of catching purple and orange sunsets followed by pani puris as you watch the heavy out pour that follows right after.

Juxtapose these emotions against the sight of crows swooping down on litter, unkempt tourists making a beeline for food stalls doling out “street food” even before its 8 in the morning and you have arrived in my shoes as they were this Sunday morning.

Yet, after 10 minutes of complaining about the state-of-affairs, I was at peace… watching the swollen skies… the intense grey clouds… the pristine, gushing waves… the gully cricketers. Things weren’t perfect and yet, there was enough and more to smile about. It’s what I call the ‘Beach Spa’. The open skies, infinite waters and soft sands have their way of convincing you that no matter what, there is beauty in the present and hope in what lies beyond the horizon.

And in this specific instance, it was the hope of yet another Mumbai monsoon. As I sipped on some tender coconut followed by fresh jamun pulp, the promise of hope bore fruit. A droplet and two at first, followed by a downpour had my heart beaming, singing and almost jumping.

That sweet smell from the ground, cold palms against hot chocolate jars, a loving towel rub on my damp stresses, warm corn on the cob on windy nights, Minesweeper with puddles and frogs, cuddles under an umbrella and the touch of fresh water from the skies on my skin.Ooh!

Let there by rain! And sand.and salt.