Here’s why Cyrus Broacha dreads monsoon

There are many words that evoke fear with immediate effect — wife, national budget, Insta influencers, electronic music, yatras and EVMs instantly come to mind. But, for Mumbaikars, (this writer is forced to live in Mumbai as his job in New York, as Mayor, was already taken), the word that we fear the most is monsoon.

There are many words that evoke fear with immediate effect — wife, national budget, Insta influencers, electronic music, yatras and EVMs instantly come to mind. But, for Mumbaikars, (this writer is forced to live in Mumbai as his job in New York, as Mayor, was already taken), the word that we fear the most is monsoon.

Strangely, in my younger days, (which may or not be pre-partition), the fear of monsoon, was unheard of. Of course, that was when our city was called Bombay. With re-naming it to Mumbai, came the monsoon fear. Please, I’m not correlating these two events, I’m just saying... Coming back to the present day, the fear is palpable. My good friend, let’s call him Vijay only because that’s what his mother named him, spends 24 hours checking various weather sources. It’s like the pandemic, Covid 19 re-visited, the paranoia, anxiety, mistrust, the excessive use of shampoo and conditioner, (er... yes, in the pandemic there was an excessive use of shampoo and conditioner, don’t ask me why. In fact, please don’t ask me anything. I’m just the messenger), people just seem to lose their mind.

What’s really peculiar is people like Vijay start asking odd questions, such as “You think I can cross the road”? Or, “Should I wash my car, which is parked outside on the road, after it’s been washed by rain or not? Or “Will you please walk ahead of me, in case, there is an open manhole”? Oh, and, of course, if there is one they are utterly grateful. One thing about Mumbaikars is they are utterly grateful, er... at least the ones that make it back home alive.

Yesterday, however, Vijay’s fear multiplied by 2077%. When I tell you why, you will start sweating with terror too. Yesterday, Vijay had to catch a flight to Chennai. Yes, try catching a flight when it’s pouring cats and pigeons in Mumbai. The airport tarmac, which originally was the eastern section of Powai Lake, goes back to its original form. It is more suitable for the Indian swimming team preparing for Paris Olympics. Visibility, as a concept, goes extinct. Yet, that is only the second half of the problem. First, Vijay has to get to the airport. Give me a minute, I’m convulsing with laughter.

That’s because Vijay has to take a rickshaw to the train station, and then another rickshaw from the station to the airport. Now, we come to the law of floatation and rickshaws. The law states, the weight of the floating body, i.e. rickshaw, stops floating after 89 seconds and sinks. The rickshaw driver most often makes it to safety. Thus Vijay’s chances of reaching the airport, on time are: (a) 7%, (b) less than 7%, (c) even less than (a) and (b). Also, this is if he leaves on a Tuesday, and the flight is for Wednesday. Poor Vijay! No point dragging this further. As far as I know, up to this point, Vijay has still not made it to the airport. Forget that! I’ve just learned, he has not even found a rickshaw.

Fellow Hindustanis, let me be clear, the rest of you can worry about the budget, Joe Biden’s health, non-veg in U.P., Olympics, Kejriwal’s bail, and the aftereffects of Kanwar Yatra. In Mumbai, all this is inconsequential. We are just trying to cross the road.

The writer has dedicated his life to communism. Though only on weekends.