Despite being a June baby and associating downpours, lightening and flooding with presents, cake and parties, I've spent most of my life loathing the monsoon gloom and trying my best to escape Bombay at the first sign of a drizzle. u00a0 This year, perhaps the wild thunderstorms have awakened the romantic in me. I find myself rather enjoying the season and thought it good time to share some happy monsoon memoriesDriven! <img alt="" src="/imagedata/2010/jul/Rahul1.jpg" border="5" /> A regular treat was my mom driving Akshaye and me to Marine Drive to watch (and get drenched in) the gigantic waves that pummeled the sea wall and then eating hot, roasted butta on the promenade. I remember our lips being chapped from the lime and chilli, getting soaked to the skin and shivering exaggeratedly in the car, all the way home before being packed off into hot showers and pyjamas. Highly beautiful This time last year, I was flying out of Bombay. During take-off, I looked out of the window expecting to see the usual, rather dreary stretches of slums that surround the airport. Instead, I was in for an incredible surprise. Most of the huts use the same bright blue plastic covers to protect against the rains. From the sky, the sheets transformed these run-down shanty-towns into vast sweeps of, what looked like, Byzantine lapis mosaics. Our city never looked as beautiful from above. On cloud nine I was a bit depressed to be stuck in Bombay this year. As I moped around, imagining weeks of grey skies, crazy traffic snarls, slushy shoes and clothes that always smell damp, a clap of thunder drew me to my window where I watched the first cloudburst of the season sweep across the bay and leave behind an incredible rainbow over Marine Drive. I think that set the tone for this monsoon as I've been smiling at clouds and taking abstract pictures of raindrops on my car window ever since. Monsoon magic Lastly, monsoon reminds me of my friend Monsoon Bissell. A true original, Monsoon was an assistant director on my first film, Earth and we connected the minute she introduced herself at the welcome party in Delhi. She was fiercely protective of us all. I remember her fighting off crowds on the sets in Chandni Chowk and practising my lines with her as she ferried me to Khan Market in her Premier Padmini to satisfy a Kit-Kat craving. Till today, she and her mother, Bim remain among my most favourite people. Just thinking of all these happy monsoon memories gives me a high.

Despite being a June baby and associating downpours, lightening and flooding with presents, cake and parties, I've spent most of my life loathing the monsoon gloom and trying my best to escape Bombay at the first sign of a drizzle.

Drizzle diaries

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