MON(, it's)SOON

When it rains it pours. Last Sunday I was on my way home when dogs started to howl and dreary, dark clouds rolled in. As rain descended on the city, I cuddled up to a mega mug of shitty cappuccino and watched as the city momentarily slowed down.

The streets weren't abandoned, but the showers forced everyone to stand still longer than usual. The chai walla continued to chop, blend, and pour tiny cups of sweet tea to drenched customers eager for a pick-me-up and cyclists made their way home weaving between groups of men blindly feeling through the murky waters.

Seeing grown men huddled together like athletes in knee deep water made me feel the same anticipation of a sporting event. Will they be able to
1. locate the sewer
2. get a firm grip
3. pull the lid off
4. caution others to the massive (& invisible) hole in the ground left behind
???????

When city infrastructure leaves a lot to be desired, citizens take maintenance into their own hands. Men wade through the waters for hours identifying sewers that can suck up the murky pools flooding the streets.  It seems that bystanders have made citizen plumbing a national past time, the cricket of monsoon season.

above: spectators

it took me an hour to get home after 2 hours of rain and i couldn't be happier about it.  The greenery that blankets Ahmedabad, the brisk air that makes me shiver at night, the slow pace and unpredictable weather all swirl together to make monsoon season the greatest season of them all!