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Rainy day diaries

FRIDAY, July 12, 8 am:
Good morning diary! Think stupid alarm clock is broken again. Thinks it’s morning even though it’s dark outside. Going back to bed. Don’t need to be awake until 8 at least. Goodnight.

10:30 am:
F**K F**K F**K F**K F**K F**K F**K F**K F**K. SO LATE FOR WORK.


Monsoon woes: Water-logging wreaks havoc on  the lives of thousands of tax-paying citizens

11 am:
Put clothes out to dry two days ago. Not dry yet. Could swear they have gotten wetter since I took them out of the machine.

11:20 am:
Looking for auto

11:30 am:
Still looking.

12 pm:
Hanged self from nearest tree in frustration. Auto stopped! Great success!

12:10 pm:
Asked auto to take me to Saki Naka. Driver hanged me back on tree. Feet wet.

12:30 pm
Yay! Tree fell over! Saved my life. More importantly, stopped 15 autos. Saki Naka here I come!!

2 pm
Have been stuck at this signal for 90 minutes. In that time, I have been sold a bouquet of flowers, a toy plane, and 4 Chetan Bhagat books. The books have helped to pass the time. I read one and threw the other three at all the auto guys who said no while they weren’t looking. This is the most use a Chetan Bhagat book has been to anyone who is not Chetan Bhagat.

2:30 pm
Good news! We finally moved! Bad news! This has put us into a stretch of water so deep, I saw Ang Lee filming Life of Pi 2: The Dark Pi in it. Now beginning to accept that I may never make it to work.

3 pm
News crew has arrived to report on dire condition of Mumbai’s drainage during the monsoons. Reporter asked me how this water-logging has ruined my day and affected the lives of thousands of tax-paying citizens. Was too busy waving into camera and texting mother to put on TV to reply.

3:45 pm
Hungry. Bought more Chetan Bhagat books. Ate all.

4 pm
The Mithi is not a river, it’s a black, fetid snake made of garbage, sewage and feces, coiling through the city, a liquid manifestation of Mumbai’s sins, returned from the dead on this day of reckoning for its annual revenge. “Look what you did to me” it whispers in my ear. “You fed this monster, you choked me and brutalised me and now here I am, rising through the gutters, returning your filth and lack of civic sense to you. I am the river, I am came. My name is Leptospirosis, and I will ravage you as you ravaged me, mind, body and soul.” Its prophecy spoken, the river embraces me in its oily death-grip. I scream. My voice sounds like rain. And then, the blackness.

4:38 pm
OKAY, WHO ELSE KNEW EATING CHETAN BHAGAT BOOKS CAUSES PARANOID HALLUCINATIONS?!

5:17 pm
Walking back home. Bought an umbrella from a street-seller for 2 lakh rupees. He used it to buy an auto, which then refused to take me back home. FML.

6:11 pm
Passed another reporter talking about “the Spirit of Mumbai”. Held him underwater until the thrashing stopped. May the spirit of his stupidity rest in peace.

7 pm
Back home. Never leaving again.

8:37 pm
Showered. Changed into fresh clothes. Feel human again.

8:45 pm
Discovered strange fungal growth on back of t-shirt. Wiped it with Chetan Bhagat book. Growth has now spread to entire wall and become sentient, growing little lava sacks that explode and release Suhel Seth quotes into the air.

9:15 pm
Exhausted. Going to bed. So glad that there are only two more months of this left. Only sixty more times do I have to wade through water. Only sixty more days of cold, wet socks and stringy hair, and sweat mixed with rain water, zero productivity, falling trees, collapsing buildings, and traffic jams that stretch to Mordor and back. God help us all.

SATURDAY, July 13, 11 am
YAY WEEKEND! Woke up to the most delightful downpour, and the sky is all grey, and the trees look green and healthy, and there’s a beautiful breeze, and the rain just won’t stop. What a perfect, beautiful day. I hope it doesn’t stop, I love this weather. In fact, I hope it’s like this for the next sixty days! I’m in such a good mood, I think I’m going to stay home and read the new Chetan Bhagat book…

Rohan Joshi is a writer and stand-up comedian who likes reading, films and people who do not use the SMS lingo. 

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