Monsoon Mischief: A Day in Dadar

Mumbai’s monsoon is a season of drama, and Dadar is its favorite stage. On this particular day, the rain was relentless, drumming on rooftops and turning streets into rivers. I had an umbrella, but in Mumbai, that’s just a prop for optimism.

I set out for Dadar Market, hoping to buy some fresh flowers for my mother. The market was a riot of colors, smells, and sounds, with vendors shouting over the rain and customers hopping over puddles. My umbrella, predictably, flipped inside out at the first gust of wind, earning me a round of applause from a group of school kids.

As I navigated the chaos, I slipped and landed—gracefully, I’d like to think—right in front of a vegetable stall. The vendor, unfazed, handed me a tomato. “Gift from the monsoon,” he said with a wink. I accepted it with a bow.

The rain intensified

And soon, the market was a sea of floating flip-flops and runaway plastic bags. I found shelter under a tarpaulin, where a group of strangers had gathered. Someone produced a flask of chai, and soon, we were all sharing stories and laughter, united by our soggy shoes.

Just then, a little boy started singing an old Bollywood song about rain. His voice was pure mischief, and soon, everyone joined in. For a moment, the market was a stage, and we were all performers in the great Mumbai monsoon musical.

When the rain finally eased, I realized I hadn’t bought any flowers. But I walked home with a tomato, a new song in my heart, and the memory of a day when the monsoon turned Dadar into a playground of joy.