Snapshot of Monsoon

Umbrellas, folded up jeans, polythenes to wrap up the used - wet umbrellas, all day wet hair and things suchlike marks the monsoon carnival. Not only its arrival but when it starts dancing around it becomes and fine and romantic weather for people like me, who sit at home, doing nothing otherthan staring at the dusky sky and the other side is a combat for those living in huts and clay houses.
The air conditioned big black car runs through the drowned road with the wipers clearing up the water at some intervals. The people inside it talks about the mismanagement of traffic in the rains, the cause of water loggings ending up with melting make-ups during the rains. And that man beside the big black car, sitting in the window seat of the bus on his way home thinks if he would get a rickshaw that late when he gets down from the bus. Or again he has to fold up his trousers and swim through the water with the files and the bundle of rotis in his hand. His wife could not make them due to damped stove, may be!
Then comes the lady with that kid returning from the series of tuitions after school. The child looks like a keyed-doll that has to be active till his parents keep the keys moving. He went to school this morning, splashing and making fun in the water! School ends and there starts his race against other kids with the huge list of tuitions and classes. Monsoon hardly makes any difference to his routine. The mother, carrying the school bad, holding the umbrella in one hand and the kid in the other continuosly scolds the kid where the kid is totally involved in the orange candy he has in his hand!
There, is the group of youngsters chatting over a cup of tea in the cha-er dokan, laughing away to glory. Even they exhibit different fashions of folded up denim. The old-man with tea and one biscuit in reminiscing about his youth seeing these young ones and desperately tries to be a part of the bunch of laughters.
In the middle of the road, is a stuck up van with chickens tied up on it. The van-puller is annoyed, angered and detested as he knows that the traffic jam is because of him. Yet he can't manage to pull his van out of the chaos and hence facing all the galis and dhamkis from all around. He is wet, tired and perhaps has fever, may be! Temper is so obvious to be lost.
The chickens that are tied up are all wet, looking like one single lump of white creatures. They know thier destiny will lead them to the stomaches, yet struggling hard to escape with a chore of pak-paks ( the sound :P).
And now comes the traffic police standing all day long in that rain, without anyone to share a word of complain. Whistling and waving hands, wet clothes that dries up and again gets wet but he stands with the compulsive responsibility of managing the traffic and yet criticised on even a petty ocassion. His children and wife spends thier day waiting and waiting.
Okay, now here I am, standing in the shade of my college, seeing people and arranging my thoughts in words. After a tired day of running after my VP to get some documents attested, I stand there, hungry, sufferring from the fashion of not carrying an umbrella and trying to fold up my jeans too!