Oh October.

The October heat, which lasted for just under a day, dissolved into a downpour.

I took an auto home and the tyres made squeaking sounds against the slick streets. The plump, glistening raindrops splashed onto cars and tired heads. I stood under a tree, waiting to cross the street, bathing in the water that rolled off the sleeping leaves. The people around me jumped across the wet mud, hoping to not get it as little as possible on their leather shoes. Others who had perhaps decided to wear the same trousers the next day muttered angrily at the unexpected change in their plans. The sky looked confused, the blue and the black fighting it out amidst all the jagged lightning.

The monsoons which Bombay assumed were gone returned briefly to a strange combination of relief and irk.