"Please stop romanticising Mumbai monsoon"

New and seasoned city residents on their first Mumbai ki baarish

I would rather spend my entire life savings (and take loans if needed) to be a wombat walker in Tasmania than endure another minute in a monsoon-induced traffic jam, stuck in a rickshaw, inhaling fumes mixed with the stench of fish and sewage. It’s my ninth encounter with the Mumbai monsoon, and I still hate it intensely.

It is often said that you never forget ‘your first’, especially when it comes to the Mumbai monsoon. For me, that memorable year was 2015. I was 22, had just moved to Mumbai from Delhi, and was living alone for the first time in a new apartment, with a new hole in the bedroom wall. It was a day of persistent rain; I spent the entire evening attempting to plug the gaping hole accidentally left behind by construction workers using all kinds of materials, from crumpled newspapers and tape to old t-shirts. Eventually, I turned off the electricity in the apartment and pulled out all the plugs. As the water seeped in, and I prepared for a restless night, I couldn’t help but recall my mother’s stories about her childhood in the city.

Born in Mumbai, my mother eventually moved to the Gulf, where my grandfather sought to build a new life for the family. But she still reminisces about the monsoon magic of her youth—walking to the bus stop in her gumboots, savouring garam bhutta (corn) from street vendors, and splashing in puddles that turned into miniature rivers. To her, the monsoon was a time of joy and wonder, a stark contrast to the drudgery of adult life that we all grow to accept. As I faced my own monsoon trials, I began to connect with her past in a way I never had before. It was as if the season was a bridge, linking me to memories of a time I had never lived in. I was learning to navigate Mumbai’s chaotic rains, with its accidental umbrella jabs, broken chappals and concentrated wading, just as my mother had done decades before me. Through my struggle, I felt connected to the person she was before she became my mother.

For the uninitiated, the first encounter with Mumbai’s monsoon can feel overwhelming, evoking feelings of awe, frustration and unexpected joy, along with unbridled nostalgia. And so, embracing the spirit of the season, we asked new and old city residents to share experiences and insights from their first Mumbai monsoon. From charmed serendipities to drenched disasters, these personal stories offer a glimpse into how people cope with, adapt to, and ultimately come to cherish this iconic season. Only once you live through it can you truly understand why there isn’t anything quite like Mumbai ki baarish.

“I’ve lost a few chappals in knee-high rain when walking home”

– Julian Manning, 30, senior features editor at Condé Nast Traveller India

Reality check: “As a writer, the first few days of the Mumbai monsoon felt incredibly romantic, seemingly cleansing the streets. But after a week or two of commuting, that romance turned to dread. The constant worry of getting home, or how many work-from-home days I could take before risking my job, was a real game-changer.

You don’t know Mumbai unless you’ve gone through one of its monsoons. A proper heavy monsoon day, full-on rains, is the only time the city completely stops. But it doesn’t last long. Nothing can keep Mumbaikars down for long.”

Monsoon gear: “I tend to forget my umbrellas everywhere. I had a poncho that made me feel sweaty but invincible when the rain hit hard. Every year, I plan to be more prepared, but I end up going with the flow, getting drenched, and inevitably falling ill.

To boost immunity, I turn into a Samahan uncle. I hand out sachets of this Ayurvedic tea to anyone I come across, which nicely warms you up, especially with a drizzle of honey. Chicken broth or soup is comforting; earlier if the rain was particularly nasty, I liked going to Carter Road for Horlicks.”

Life indoors: “I lived in an older Bandra apartment with preexisting mould. I was always sneezing, and the monsoon compounded that effect. I had a little balcony that I loved, but it would flood with water, coming in from under the door. With the internet going out and losing electricity, a good book and a battery-run clip-on light are lifesavers.”

Season’s highs and lows: “I’ve lost a few chappals in knee-high rain when walking home because no cabs or autos would go anywhere. Once, during a light rain jog, I missed a drain and got my leg stuck in a grate. Thankfully, it wasn’t fully open, where people get sucked in, never to return. It was quite an adventure.

Gallops at the Mahalaxmi Race Course isn’t where I’d typically go [for a meal], but I had high tea there one afternoon. It was perfectly overcast, and the greenery just lit up and bloomed. I hung around there longer than I needed to, pulling out a book I had in my bag.”

“The city doesn’t stop for the rain; it embraces it”
– Vasudha Mani Iyer, 28, freelance fashion stylist

Reality check: “My first Mumbai monsoon was a mix of awe and frustration. I came to the city for an internship and stayed for a year. The rain was like nothing I’d ever seen before, and the city seemed to both thrive and struggle. Initially, I was charmed by the constant drizzle and the greenery it brought out, but navigating through flooded streets quickly made me realise the challenges that come with it.

The monsoon has taught me to appreciate the resilience of Mumbaikars. The city doesn’t stop for the rain; it embraces it. By the end of my time in Mumbai, I had come to love the rain, and it’s made me feel more connected to the city.”

Monsoon gear: “Besides an umbrella, I started to carry a pair of flip-flops in my bag. They’re lifesavers when the roads get flooded. I also invested in a waterproof backpack after one too many threats against my laptop. Also, always check the local train schedule and weather updates before leaving the house.”

Life indoors: “Mould was a big problem in my PG (rental accommodation). One of my roommate’s mothers bought a dehumidifier, which made a huge difference. She also taught me to keep my windows slightly open to ensure better ventilation and reduce moisture buildup.

There was a small street vendor near my PG who would make the best hot pakodas with green chutney, my ultimate monsoon comfort food. Pair it with masala chai, and you’re set.”

Season’s highs and lows: “One evening, I got caught in a sudden downpour after work. All the autos were full, and I had no choice but to walk. I ended up seeking shelter under the awning of a tiny paan shop. There were three other men there, including the owner, and being from Delhi, you perceive it as an immediate threat. But the owner pulled out a little stool for me to sit on, and made me a meetha paan. They could see I was panicking, but they kept joking to try and comfort me. Even today, when I think about it, I smile and send out a prayer of good energy and good health to the three of them.

Marine Drive during a monsoon evening is a sight to behold. The waves crashing against the promenade are mesmerising and slightly terrifying, and the whole place has a serene vibe that you don’t get to experience otherwise.”

“Our only entertainment was singing songs for each other”
– Ranjit Shukla, 65, IT professional

Reality check: “Being from Bengaluru, I’m used to the rain, but Mumbai’s monsoon is on a different level. It’s intense and constant. Initially, I enjoyed the change, but it soon became a challenge to deal with on a daily basis. Eventually, the monsoon made me realise how the city is always alive, no matter the weather. It encapsulates the spirit of Mumbai, and I’ve grown to admire that ‘chale chalo (keep moving)’ attitude.”

Monsoon gear: “I learned the hard way to always to carry a waterproof bag, even if it’s just a giant plastic bag. Also, a small towel.”

Life indoors: “I lived with two other young men like myself. We were in our early twenties, sharing one room in what was essentially a chawl, and our only entertainment was singing songs for each other.

Leakage in the ceiling was a major issue. We would keep sealing it up. Then, one day, we heard that someone’s roof caved in and considered ourselves lucky.”

Season’s highs and lows: “Getting stuck in a traffic jam for four hours during a particularly heavy downpour. It was frustrating, but the people around were so friendly and helpful.

The ultimate comfort food during the rain is vada pav, or omelette pav. Also, Juhu Beach in the monsoon is a sight to behold. Even when it’s raining, people come to the beach, with policemen on patrol to ensure no one gets dangerously close to the water. There is so much excitement in the air.”

“I was so scared. I thought the rickshaw would topple over”
– Anjali Gupta, 53, homemaker

Reality check: “I moved here from Kolkata after marriage, and was taken aback by how heavy and persistent the rains were. The monsoon has shown me the adaptive nature of Mumbaikars. The city truly never stops. Over the years of living here, I like to believe I too have become more like that.”

Monsoon gear: “After the first few days of rain, my phone was spoilt. So, having a waterproof phone pouch became essential for me. My neighbour told me to get a sturdy raincoat, as umbrellas can be unreliable in heavy winds. Since drying clothes is a challenge, I had to get a drying rack that fits in my living room and keep the fan going on full.”

Life indoors: “Like everyone else, masala chai with spicy samosas became my go-to combo for rainy days. I also picked up knitting during the monsoon. It’s relaxing and keeps my hands busy.”

Season’s highs and lows: “One day, I was picking up my son from school after music class, and after a heavy spell of rain, a few of us were stranded there. The other parents and I ended up having an impromptu antakshari game and sharing life stories, while the kids played amongst themselves. It was such a bonding experience. But on the way back, the rain picked up again. It was torrential rain, like you read about in textbooks. I was so sacred. I thought the rickshaw would topple over because of the strong winds.”

“I never imagined I’d own a pair of Crocs”
– Eshika Gupta, 27, video producer at Tweak India

Reality check: “Coming from North India, where the monsoons are enjoyable and the sun still shines, I expected Mumbai to be the same. And the first five days of monsoon were pleasant because of the cool weather. But then reality hit, with traffic jams and water-logging everywhere. It was a turn-off. Plus, the constant gloom with no sun at all felt depressing.

But people carry on with life as usual. It’s overwhelming to see the resilience of Mumbaikars, but it makes you miss the light sunshine showers back home.”

Monsoon gear: “I never imagined I’d own a pair of Crocs, but the monsoon made sure of it. I hate them, but they’re practical. I also always carry an umbrella, and if possible, an extra set of clothes. Commuting to the office has never been a big deal because I live close by, just 20 minutes away. That was something I considered when looking for a place to stay.”

Life indoors: “One monsoon, my roof caved in, and everything was wrecked. I had never seen anything like it. I didn’t have relatives here, but people in my PG helped, and we moved into another room. What sticks in your mind is: What if my roommate and I were sleeping when this happened?”

Season’s highs and lows: “People need to stop romanticising monsoons; many struggle during this season. I believed the illusion of Wake Up Sid until I moved here myself.

Growing up in North India, monsoon brought with it a sense of togetherness. My father would come home early, make tea, and we’d have pakodas together, spending time as a family. Here, no one stops for the weather to change. But the monsoon has also taught me to find joy in the smallest moments, and navigate through challenges with a smile.”