Here are your choices - Hot and Humid or Hot and Dusty. That is the call you have to take in India every summer, and frankly I have honestly wondered why our forefathers occupied this oppressive land. When I was a kid and school carried on till the second week of May in Delhi, the heat was so intense it was not funny. I travelled to Pune on Wednesday and realised why I don't miss the oppressively dry heat of Delhi summers anymore. Imagine taking a hot Iron and holding it 6-8 inches above your skin - it is that bad. And when you add 'The Loo', every Delhi-ites favourite metereological phenomenon, plus a healthy dose of crushed Aravali rock and Thar sand, the amazing and fascinating Delhi summer is complete.
Not that Bombay is any better. But here it is the humidity that kills you. Whereas Delhi has a humidity level somewhere near 0.00001, in Bombay it seems all the water magically entered the atmosphere and then found its way to the back, front and sides of your shirt. Ten minutes after you walk out of your house, after showering. By the time I reach office I am a physical marvel, because my body has shed a couple of tens of litres of water.
And now I have decided, in complete sanity (or insanity) to travel down the Konkan and Malabar coast for a holiday. Why I am doing this is beyond me, but I am, I think it has something to do with my parents and my screwed-up upbringing or maybe even the those 23 chromosomes didn't all match up correctly (and I've found two crazy compatriots to come along with me). Sensible people go to Switzerland, even Shimla. I'm going to Kerela. I don't think all my friends and family are still aware of my gloriously mad intentions, but they soon will be.
This will have one side effect though, posts will become highly irregular and I will not be touch with the world. So wish me luck.