From afar it seems to be caught in a time warp: the Jehangir Art Gallery I visited as undergraduate is like it was ages ago. But inside the wear and tear is showing if you look hard enough. Fortunately, there are more children weaving in and out of the halls which is heartening.

During the time we were growing, the Jehangir Art Gallery was where young artists aspired to someday have their work on display. I tell my kids a bit about the history: that it was founded by Sir Cowasji Jehangir at the urging of KK Hebbar and Homi Bhabha and built in 1952.

Today, the gallery looks busy. Even before we enter I see parents with children leaving the premise. There are four exhibition halls inside the gallery. We climb up to explore the one on top, first. In 1952, when JAG was inaugurated, the space was meant to symbolise the renaissance of Indian art. I realise now, how the simple layout of the hall actually gives no scope to look at anything except the works on display. And somehow, it makes sense.

After the pristine NGMA, the Jehangir Art Gallery is warmer. And the exhibition on the top instantly renders us speechless. Titled Mumbai in Monsoons, there is nothing of the bleak Mumbai you expect during the monsoons. What is there instead is a splash of colours. The lights of the Chhatrapati Shivaji Terminus reflected on a wet road, the shimmer of the sea during a cloud burst, a dance of a procession leading a Ganpati in the rains… we’ve forgotten how colourful Mumbai is; can be. And someone has seen it and captured it.

Every painting has a thread, a connect: a flutter of leaves. “These look like maple leaves,” one kid observes. It does. But the thing about Jehangir Art Gallery is that you can walk up to the artist and chat with him/her. And, my kids talk to the artist. The artist tells them that the leaf he has rendered on each of his frames is one that appears only in the monsoons in Mumbai. Wow.