Monsoon rains

Monsoon.

It sounds so exotic when you read it. And yet it has taken me a month and a half to realize how exotic it is to actually live it.

It all started as an ordinary day, albeit an extremely hot one. A day filled with the heat you can only understand through experience. The kind of heat that leaves a thin film of sweat over your entire body, no matter how little you move. The kind of heat that is so damp you can almost drink it, and so potent that you cannot escape it. The kind of heat that leaves you begging the sky to cloud over and rain down on you.

After a day of dragging our bodies from one shady corner to the next, my dear friend Hannah and I settled on the front porch to have an allegedly 'cold' beer and a chat. It was early evening, but the sun's rays were still beating down fiercely.

Around 6:30, clouds began to appear in the sky. Their appearance changed rapidly from innocent white fluff to black rain clouds looming ominously over us.

A storm was looming.

Thank God.

Within a few hours the wind had picked up significantly and people were rushing past our gate, trying to beat the storm to their front doors. As the trees waved and bowed in the wind, the clouds opened up and rain came pouring down on us.

It really can only be described as pouring. Something like a giant tap being turned on over your head - there are no raindrops, there are rivers falling from the sky.

In the span of a few minutes the streets had turned to lakes of ankle deep, murky brown water. The sewers raged as a slate-coloured stream of water from the hills flows through them. Even under a porch, a meter away from the rain, you were still getting drenched.

And then the thunder and lightning came. The sky lit up for a second, and in that time you glimpsed the outlines of a forest covered mountain, trees buckling under the pressure of wind and water, and a wall of rain blowing past you. Count to five....and then the thunder rolled over the mountains, echoing in a way that I could never hope to describe in words.

And as we sat witnessing Mother Nature's temper tantrum, all I could think was "I love my life."