Umbrella

"Now that its raining more than ever

Its good that we have each other "

Rihanna - Umbrella

My constant companion these rainy months in Mumbai, is a old fashioned non foldable umbrella with a curved handle. Some may say that she is frumpy and gawdy but I prefer to think of her pink, green and blue print as nouveau chic...infact....if it werent for the mudswamps and potholes we could have almost been in Paris. Almost being the operative word.

We are inseperable. Like two peas in a pod. Like two flowers in a swamp. Like two cornstubs in a packet of popcorn. Like a pair of work out socks.

I'll lie if I say that it was love at first sight. Honestly, I was going to choose something that folded into three parts, was black as soot in a warm fireplace and had a japanese label. Something that had survived an intense six sigma process for rain wear. It was a slightly aged gentleman with kind brown eyes that pulled her out of a grey protective sieve and handed her to me hesitantly.

It was like Harry Potter picking out his magic wand...the moment I gripped her slender transperant handle .. I knew that there was magic here.

A lot of people look at us and say ..gosh ..thats like a grandmothers umbrella ..its half your height isnt it .. and I just smile.

I've left her in many places this year .. at work ..at costa coffee ..at Fuel ..at work.. in a rickshaw..at a pooja ..in my gym... but somehow ..who the gods want us to be with ..we may not lose sight of.

There are days when my umbrella is the brightest part of my 2 hour commute. On the bus ride, I hang her over the window sill and watch the suns rays reflect the vibrant colours until the yellow fades away and the day is no more. On the way home, I watch the silver drops kiss her silly and fall on the streets giddy with love. And when I am ready for a long day at work - she is ready too ..always waiting ..folded in her best form awaiting a long day too.

I am someone who would love to walk around in eternal sunshine. Raindrops are tears that the skies cry and they make my heart bleed.

But listening to Micheal Buble on my ipod under my pink blue umberella in the limelight that a hundred rickshaws provide has proved itself to be an acquired taste this year. ..squishy footwear notwithstanding.

Its Friday evening and soon we will be on our way back home. And like a smile shielding a broken heart from the eyes of the world - my umbrella will take the fall for me and get soaked so I may not drown in sky tears. And for that and the pretend glamor that she brings into my otherwise fashion challenged world- I am thankful.

Like someone once said - Weather is a great metaphor for life. Sometimes its good and sometimes its bad. The most that anyone can do .. is carry an Umbrella.

Thank god I;ve got mine.