In India, the monsoon isn’t just a season; it’s an emotion. It brings relief from the scorching heat of summer. The earthy and woody fragrance that rises when the rain caresses the ground brings in some different kind of happiness. You can’t adequately express the sense of relaxation you experience after a long and exhausting summer until the first shower kisses your skin.

The relationship between Mumbai and the rain is a powerful mix of intense daily disruption, nostalgia, comfort, chaos, entertainment and disaster—all unfolding at once.

Childhood

Rains have a magical quality that transports us back to the innocent days of childhood. Each raindrop tells a story, and as we reminisce about those precious moments from the past, we are reminded of the simple joys and boundless imagination that defined our childhood. There is something about the smell of rain that seems to unlock a forgotten part of childhood. 

For me, it is the memory of paper boats floating down overflowing drains. Crafting boats out of old notebooks, racing them down the flooded street gutters and desperately cheering for your boat to win the "marathon" while getting completely drenched. Watching it drift away, we had imagined it was off on a grand adventure, sailing to far-off lands. The joy of seeing that little boat bobbing on the water was unmatched.

The puddles were our playgrounds, finding the biggest, muddiest puddle and jumping in on purpose, competing with siblings and friends to see who could make the biggest splash and then facing Amma’s wrath with mud all the way to our knees. Playing in the rain for hours and just having a ball in the rain and mud like pigs and then not worrying about Amma ki Daatt, Kyunki Daag ache hai! The rain wasn’t just water; it was pure joy pouring from the sky.

It was also the simple joy of watching raindrops slide down a window while homework sat forgotten for a while. We would run barefoot, arms wide open, as if trying to catch every single drop. As kids, we forgot about the clogged roads, the floods, the traffic, the umbrella and the raincoat! The best part of the rainy season was coming back home, dripping wet and being greeted with the smell of freshly made pakoras or samosas. We had a huddle around, our clothes still damp, and dug into those delicious snacks with a hot cup of chai or milk. The rain outside made everything taste just a little bit better.

There was always a joy in rainy mornings, a thrill of waking up to the sound of rain. We all know how tempting it is to curl up with a blanket and listen to the rain. Using rain as an excuse to skip school, I remember telling my Amma, “Aaj baarish ho rahi hai itni tez, main school kaise jau. My amma would always respond, “Naatak mat karo! Wear the raincoat and go to school!!” Some days, we would get a surprise holiday because of the rain.

Back then, life was simpler. There were no smartphones or video games to keep us indoors. The rainy season was pure joy, whether it was cricket in the drizzle, football in the mud or just floating paper boats in waterlogged streets. In fact, playing cricket in the rain was a test of skill (and madness!). The wet ball was slippery, the field was muddy, and every dive meant a splash. But that’s what made it fun. Getting dirty without a care in the world was a unique childhood experience. We knew Amma would be waiting for us with a dry towel the second we walked through the door!

During my childhood days, it was a matter of prestige to upgrade from a raincoat to an umbrella. It was kind of a show-off— "Look, mine is better. How fast it opens on the click of a button and hear that sound it makes, tick-tack.”

Standing under water oozing out of draining pipes, feeling the soft pressure of water on our heads was really fun. Somehow, we would always find a pipe that is draining water from someone's roof or balcony and make a train and follow the trail. We felt the rain droplets.

Magar Mujhko Lauta Do Bachpan Ka Saavan

Woh Kagaz Ki Kashti, Woh Barish Ka Pani

Dancing in the Rain

Dancing in the rain and forgetting the world for a while because nothing else matters – a pure expression of total freedom, joyful release, easing your pain, letting go of the heavy thoughts and deep emotional reset. 

Just you, the music and that feeling you can’t really put into words. Some memories aren't planned... they are made under cloudy skies and raindrops. They are created the moment someone says, "Let's dance in the rain, without worrying, laughing a little louder and making memories that stay long after the rain stops.

The Umbrella

You invest in a heavy-duty, wind-proof, thousand-rupee umbrella. The moment you step onto the street, a gust of wind turns your prized possession inside out, leaving you drenched like a drowned rat while everyone around you casually enjoys the rain. There is always a pride in carrying the fancy, push-button chatri" or the absolute struggle of fighting the wind to keep a giant umbrella from turning inside out.  Never go out without an umbrella in the hopes that it won’t rain! Always expect the seemingly sunny days to surprise you. Of course, one individual will always be on the street who doesn’t give a shit and would rather be wet! Sometimes, you might be that person.

Commuting

Standing in the middle of a flooded street, you will see vehicles splashing brown gutter water directly at your face. It is like the city's unique way of giving you a wet, stinging, puddle-filled kiss. You will inevitably be sprayed by a car, truck, bus or any other moving item, no matter how hard you try. It would rain when you would get ready for work. It would rain even harder when you would have to leave for work, making it impossible to step outside the house. And if you somehow muster the courage to be where you ought to be, the waterlogging & traffic jams would make you question your existence. It is as if the rains are punishing you for stepping out.

In the evenings, it would take you hours to book one cab. Autos are out of question. They have the excuse, “Madam, itni baarish me Engine me Paani bar jayenge." Then, there is always a constant fear of what if the auto/cab breaks down in between? How would you reach home amidst such moody rains? The real survival is trying to book a cab via Ola/Uber. You spend an hour watching the app scroll through endless drivers, all of whom politely cancel once they realise they will be kayaking to your location. During intense spells, it is common to see cars crawling through water like miniature boats or to hear the unmistakable splash of soaked shoes during a waterlogged walk.

The Gifts of Rain

Your clothes won’t dry up for days. When they would, you won’t want to call those your own. Why? Because of moisture and the complimentary pungent smell with them. The gadgets won’t work. The walls won’t stop dripping. Furniture would screech more & everything in your house would develop a stale smell. You cannot access everything with ease. Almost everything is moist.

Local Trains

The railway network is the true lifeline of the city, and the announcement "Yaatri kripya dhyaan dijiye..." (Passengers, please pay attention...) warning of long delays or cancellations is a universally recognised, frustrating, monsoon soundtrack.

You spend the entire trip in packed local trains while acting oblivious to the dripping water from the roof. Passengers pop open umbrellas inside the train compartments because the roof leaks more than a kitchen sieve. A Mumbaikar gets drenched daily either with sweat or with rain; I feel the latter one is better. The classic 3-person bench magically accommodates a 4th or even 5th person, squeezed tighter as wet clothes make everyone slide together. Sion station, just after 10 minutes of normal rain, transforms into an accidental water park where the tracks turn into swimming pools and commuters audition for a marine life documentary. Tracks and platforms merge into one giant, muddy indoor lake. You need a ferry ticket instead of a local train pass.

Nature

During the rainy season, Mumbai transforms into a lush green paradise. The once dusty streets and barren landscapes are now adorned with vibrant shades of green. The trees sway gracefully in the wind, their leaves glistening with raindrops. The city beaches become even more enchanting as the waves crash against the shore under the blue sky. It's the season where trees get to take a shower; all that matted dust on the leaves gets washed off to reveal their vibrant green colour. The pollutants/dust circulating in the air settles down and is washed off into the drains to help us breathe fresh air. There is a sense of freshness all around with plants, flowers and trees in full bloom. It truly is heaven for nature lovers. Taking a deep breathe is possible only during the rains in metro cities in recent times.

Shaking off rainwater from tree branches is so entrancing. The droplets of water collected on leaves and branches – super fun to shake them off on your friends or yourself, enjoying the sounds of rainwater gushing through the drains on streets and the water dropping on the plastic roof – a pleasant music in itself. (The frogs' croaking is annoying, though). An enjoyable thing is to watch the little birds and animals like squirrels, cats, crows, mynas, pigeons, and parrots occupying the window slabs and branches to protect themselves from rain, and some of them meditating on the electric poles during rains.

Street food

One comforting escape makes the monsoon season worth cherishing. Mumbai’s iconic street food. Who doesn't love having rainy-day snacks while listening to the sounds of rain pitter-pattering? Chaats, golas, pav bhaji, kanda poha, pakoras, garam garam samosas with hot gulab jamuns, soups, and cutting chai served in small glasses or kulhads – every steaming sip warms you against the damp chill and is heavenly on a rainy day.

Of course, Rains and Bhuttas are almost inseparable. As the rains arrive, roadside vendors roast fresh corn over charcoal, then rub it with lime, salt and red chilli powder. A big salute to the Bhutta walas who will go on rubbing even the dead body of the nimbus [lemons] on atleast 10-15 bhuttaas.  When at home, just sitting by the window, all by yourself, breathing in the rainy breeze, thinking about life, and getting the feels or sipping a hot cup of tea with crispy onion pakoras…. That’s heavenly.

Season of Love

Monsoon is a season of love. The weather is perfect for cuddling up with your loved one, and the city looks even more beautiful when it’s cloaked in mist. This is a time when romance blossoms and couples come together. In fact, it is impossible to miss those young couples trying to find shelter from the rain hiding under an umbrella and embarking on long, peaceful walks. There's something about the weather that just makes everything feel more intimate. Whether you are cuddling up with your loved one or taking a long walk together, rain can make any moment feel special.

Thus, Rain literally washes away the stress of the day and places you into relaxation. To date, when it rains, I rush to the balcony to smell the earthy scent coming out of the pots and ground below my balcony. It is like a temporary hold on the motions of life, like a coating of time slowing down so that I can remember nature and what is present before me and not mindlessly get dragged along to the rhythm of this world. 

The rain calms me down. It makes me feel like finally I have the permission to breathe. On normal days, I am always rushing somewhere, thinking about something, worrying about everything, running somewhere, carrying invisible battles, pretending they are okay.  But the moment, it rains something inside me just stops. Like my mind finally exhales after holding its breath for too long. Rain reminds me that happiness doesn't always arrive in big moments. Sometimes it arrives in a wet road smell, a blue sky, a warm cup of chai and a window to look out of. Maybe rain is nature's way of saying slow down, feel everything, you have been running for too long. It makes me feel like I belong to the world again .The roads, the people and even my thoughts.  

Rain gives us the gift of pause from our daily activities. It reminds us of the essentials in life. It teaches us that happiness doesn't always arrive as a life-changing event. Sometimes, it arrives quietly, falls from the sky, knocks on your window and asks nothing from you, except to look up.  For me, it is not just rain, but it is the earth reminding all of us that even after the hottest, hardest days… the sky still knows how to be kind.