Rain poured incessantly. The street was flooded by water and people, the later wading through the onslaught, their only wish? Home and a warm cup of tea. It was Shanaya’s first monsoon. Where she came from rain was luxury. But the downpour here left her curious. A few minutes later the water levels rose perilously. She decided to take shelter in a two story contraption that provided some respite from rain. As she dried her face she saw a cheerful lad run up the stairs with glasses full of tea. He wore a vest, worn and in desperate need of wash. She noticed his shorts were very short. He probably lived years in those clothes. But what caught her attention was his bright smile and a very delightful,
“Lo didi chai pi lo!”
She started shuffling through her bag for change.
“Arrey nahi, paise nahi chahiye. Aaj baarish bahut hai aur rasta bandh. Hamara chai ka tapri hai. Is mausam mein sabko chai free hai.” She smiled at how he dragged the word free. She sipped the tea and murmured a thankyou. In this strange city, on a monsoon evening she had learnt why Mumbai was resilient.
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