Is one bright and sunny day too much to ask?

I HATE the monsoon, period!

It’s been raining and raining and raining for the past four and a half months. And this is why I am so sick of the rains-

- The monsoon sky, listless, pallid ashen grey, the color of death. It’s so depressing, this melancholic blanket of grayness, so thick you may even begin to doubt the existence of the sun. And you can’t see the moon or the stars at night. I miss looking up at the night sky and thinking ‘hey, there’s Orion the Hunter!’, that being the only constellation I can recognise.
- The muck, the dirt, the potholes, the all encompassing dampness and clammy feeling, the wasted Sunday spent evading the mold attack.
- Petty neighbors picking petty fights over petty nothings. This is not unique to the rainy season, but for some strange reason it gets pronounced then.
- The rain gods have something against me. Why would it otherwise rain only when I happen to be on my way home or to work? Why would it rain hard and heavy enough to soak me to my skin only when I am not carrying my raincoat? Why would it stop raining just after I have decided to stop and go thru the tedious and tiresome process of putting on my raincoat? Any idea how embarrassing this is when your long distance ride takes you in your semi-wet-clothes-covered-with-an-almost-dry-raincoat glory into a part of the city which in the height of the monsoon is miraculously as dry as the Sahara itself and everybody looks at you like you came out of a circus?
- ‘I used to pee that much when I was pregnant’- exclaimed a fellow colleague the other day, naturally overawed by my frequency in visiting the loo. ‘It’s the damned rain’ I retorted. The rain is not good for my bladder.

And this is why I can bear the monsoon, reasons other than the most obvious one being that I really don’t have a choice-
- The recurring daydream of stormy weather outside and me inside in a cozy window seat, curled up with a warm quilt, a good book and piping hot adrak wali chai & kanda bhaji for company. Heavenly bliss or what?!
- The rainbow.
- The greenery- the shades and tints of green, so soothing, so gentle. On the rare days when the sun shines and the monotonous gray gives way to pockets of blue sky with tiny fluffy white clouds and huge fluffy blue-black ones, it’s a lovely picture that Nature paints- the myriad hues of green against the backdrop of the sky. Add to that the brown of the tree barks and the red of the earth, you get a picture so sublime, its worth all the four months of incessant rain and muck and potholes and the grand whiny inconvenience.
- Mom admonishing me everytime I start cribbing, "Think of those poor farmers!" By which she means, of course, think of poor us when the prices will shoot through the roof.

Why can’t it rain at night? It should rain at night- nice and heavy. In the morning it should be clear and sunny – everything squeaky clean and fresh. Wouldn't that be just neat? *long drawn-out sigh* If I were to be sent to the gallows right now, my last wish would be a sunny day.