It rains suddenly. The wind brings in the clouds; thousands of small drops fall so quietly, evenly, nicely, I have to watch. There is a slight, cool breeze. The worst of the monsoon is gone, I think. I'm sure not. It's my first monsoon season.
The three days of rain, and the roads flooding, and people's cars shutting down was all new. Now I understand why they use manual cars here, not automatic. The rain. Months of nothing and then it rains, relentlessly, with so much perserverence. It's water that will be taken away again, at some time. It collects in puddles and makes our clothes dirty. It seeps into our shoes and worse, our socks.
I don't know what adventure I was expecting, but I was expecting adventure. Not simple plain, rain and the occasional flooding (witnessed on the news, not first hand). There is no fun in that. It's just wind and rain. Soft and cool. Both clean and dirty.
I have a new umbrella I've never used, opened only once when Fizzah had an accident on it and I had to wash it. Should I go out? Should I go out to use the umbrella? It seems foolish. It's just rain. Lots of it, sometimes, sure, but it's just water.