....in Aamchi Mumbai. Temperatures are soaring through the roof, Its too hot to walk out in a pair of denims without feeling like they'll fuse into my skin and someone will have to perform surgical separation procedures to rid my legs of them.
And its not even April yet! For Chrissakes. We hardly had an itsy bitsy twopence excuse for a winter, isn't it fair to apply the same logic to summers? Why is it that winters can come and go with shoddy excuses, and summers descend upon us as though someone up there's unleashing his ferocious wrath, the intensity of which decides fate of his appraisals? Some mercy, please. Really, there's only so much heat that train-travelling, dust and smoke enduring, road rage containing Mumbaikars can take, without being in a foul mouthed mood for the rest of the day.
My skin is in a lesser co-operative mood during summers, tanning, freckling, frequent breakouts and general foul temper inducing incidents. How I can be dehydrated after guzzling more than 2 -3 litres of water a day still eludes me. Where does it all go? (No, wait I know the answer to that). Im in critically near hair-chopping states...my long locks, cultivated after years of looking like a cross dresser at parties. (What can a girl possibly wear to a club/disc with hair shorter than some men in her group, other than shorts. And Weddings. YIKES) and then I think NO, ill endure.
I'm ranting, I know. There's only so much rant about the weather that people around me can take :D