Monsoon and Summer

It’s summer in Hamburg, and monsoon in Bangalore. It’s been a little over a month since I turned a  year older. I’ll be honest- my birthday was terrible. It was nothing like I imagined and it was not a happy day. The only happy thing about it was that I could spend some part of the day with my grandparents and some shallow, stereotype shopping (retail therapy?) .

Somewhere between being fierce about being happy on the day I came into the world, and getting through that day, sadness engulfed me and I gave in. The pregnancy hormones don’t make it much easier, I suppose.

I always make a big deal about my birthday- the day, the week AND the month. And this time, on the weekend of June 30th, Hamburg, my new home, my safe haven, echoed my sentiments exactly- it was the weekend of a relentless, never-ending drizzle. Yes, a drizzle- a Hamburg drizzle to be precise- not enough rain to carry an umbrella, and not even enough to warrant a cover on your head- an irritating, never-ceasing, three day and three night drizzle. It was the perfect weekend to sulk and stay in bed, to be lazy, eat the unhealthiest kind of food and be upset all over again.


But today, ladies and gentleman, today is a new month, a new Sunday and looks nothing like this gloomy sky (even as we recover from G20 wreckage)! It’s summer in Hamburg. It counts even if sunlight blesses us only once a week or so. We are going to soak in it while it lasts and watch Sophie run around like a crazy person.

Happy Sunday and may you have a splendid week ahead!