बारिश
I've visited Mumbai twice in the last month, for reasons starkly different, yet similar. But the backstory is for another time. Hopefully, there is another time. This time around, I decided to take a train from Pune, the 7:15AM Deccan Queen that people across generations have backed their livelihood on. I, on the other hand, was treating it as leisure, and was merely excited by the prospect of being in a train after years. I had taken a flight the previous day, and thanks to the CrowdStrike fiasco, I spent a good nine-and-a-half-hours in transit. This, along with the early morning wake-up-call to catch the train, meant that I was on reserves. The train set afoot, and I slept, or rather tried to. But when have my sleeping instincts ever come in handy? I accepted that my eyes would be open. Would I be awake, I didn't know yet. Initially, my eyes locked horns with the make-shift houses that were somehow still standing tall in this heavy downpour. The train soon caught speed, and