Rainy Sunday Mornings

Nature and running are two of the best mood boosters for me. More often than not with my brain being muddled with ruminating clouds of thoughts, I turn to one or the other. Feeling mentally knackered after a particularly trying week, despite the pitter patter and the skies looking ready to burst, we decided to get out of our warm cozy house into the rain drenched, mud splattered streets for a walk.

Having reached Joggers Park, Bandra, we then decided not unsurprisingly to venture out for a run. It’s drizzling lightly but not so heavy that you can’t run (well there never is a day or time that you can’t run). 

I start at a slow pace, and make my way past the inner bye lanes of Bandra dotted with pretty little bungalows, two storied buildings, interspersed with the occasional monstrosity (where sadly the bungalows have been replaced). Clad in shorts and a bright orange running jersey and rivulets of sweat and water running down my face, my glasses speckled with the drizzle of rain, I am met with funny stares from the infamous Bandra aunties headed to Sunday morning service. Smiling to myself, I continue to reach the beginning of the road leading to Bandra bandstand where the sea is a sight to behold. Very few vehicles on the road, and the Sunday morning walkers having abandoned their walk, the route bears a deserted look. The palm trees dotting the bandstand promenade sway from side to side like Hawaiian dancers, the waves of the sea strike the rocks along the coast the sound echoing like thunder, the sea is grey, raw, untouched and fabulous, the droplets are like stones hitting against me as I run, and it is positively fabulous. I am beaming at my husband who is running ahead and has done a U-turn and has made his way back to me. Deciding to go ahead because this is nature at it’s wildest and best, and we love craziness like this, we decide to brave all forces and make it as far as we can. 

The rain now feels like hailstones pelting us, and we are fighting the wind to make our way ahead as the sea roars in its natural avatar. We stop for a shelter under an open bus stop, then decide against it, and make our way back to the beginning of our trail. The smack of the soles of my water laden sneakers against the tarred roads, and my dripping hair are my partners in crime as I quicken my pace. Deciding to call it a day, we unwind and stretch at Jogger’s Park, Bandra which is unsurprisingly sparsely populated on this rainy Sunday morning. We stretch for a bit, watching the fury of the waves against the shore, the lone fisherman standing on a the lone black outcrop hoping to catch his Sunday lunch, the few morning walkers, and the silhouette of the sea link in the distance ensconced in fog.

Mornings like this set me up for the week, and make me feel so grateful and thankful that I can witness nature in all its glory – raw and untouched, coupled with one of my favourite activities and one of my favourite people.

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