‘Live to Write’ Triumphs Over ‘Write to Live’

To call writing my ‘cup of tea’ would be an understatement. Well in a way, I both live to write and write to live. While my ‘writing to living’ mostly consists of business acquisitions and serious matters, the ‘live to write’ part is an associate to the jovial part of me. This part allows me to take refuge in Wordsworth, Keats, and Browning. And they are also a sole reason why I adore the monsoons to the core. Anybody putting up in Mumbai would know the nature of hassles one has to bear with.

People say the most annoying part is its frequency to pay a visit. You have absolutely no inkling when it might drizzle and when they would get their unprepared shower, that isn’t too friendly with umbrellas. In spite of such gigantic excuses to despise the rains in Mumbai, my thoughts go upside down and I rest my case with the same.

I admire the dark sky that happily bears the load of tonnes of water droplets. I love the clouds that appear closer, the trees that appear greener. I like the muddy fields that form circles all across the road. I cherish the moment when my legs get trapped into the muddy pool and my fellow travellers get anxious. I even like walking through the water drops sans any protection, upholding myself before nature.

I like to zone out between my hectic roster and just gaze by the window, watching the movement of water. I cherish the moment when I have to rush to the balcony, to save my clothes from getting wet. I love the madness when I randomly sneak out of the car and wet myself for the sake of getting wet. I love the colour of my vision, when my mind resonates to the tune of the rain outside.

I love to relish my cup of black tea that loses its warmth, owing to the weather outside. I like to sit by it, with my legs stretched far wide, and pen my daily musings. Writing is definitely not just my cup of tea, it's my sole dependence.