The Woman In My Window

Woman in the Window

*Picture from

I love sitting by the window when it rains, dilly dallying over my bowl of soup or cup of coffee. I strain my nose to catch a whiff of wet earth and stretch my ears to listen to the distant song of the birds in their nests. It is then that I spot the woman in my window, quietly boring her eyes into me as if she can look right through me and to the other side.

When I first spotted her staring at me, her eyes morose and brimming with a dozen unfinished stories, I tried to shake her off. I sprinkled extra pepper in my soup and added more chocolate to my coffee. But she adamantly stayed put, belying all laws of physics, and obstructing my view of the trees across the road, the colourful umbrellas and the kids floating paper boats with their moms. All she left me with was a view of the slick mud, frail leaves that couldn’t stand the rain and shivering street dogs.

Whenever she appears, my living room grows cold, the curtains grow dull and my feet feel sticky with mud even after I wipe them clean. Then, I fervently miss the sun and pray that I can stop her from clawing her way into my heart, dragging me down in the dumps with her.

I detest her. Her name is Monsoon Blues.

32 thoughts on “The Woman In My Window

  1. Pingback: Rain & Me: Old Friends Who Have Fallen Apart | Of Paneer, Pulao and Pune

  2. I love the metaphors…or is it personification? I often forget which term is which.

    Anyway, while reading I kept on thinking who she was. Great write up, Debo

  3. Luckily I have no such Monsoon blues. Rain make me all mushy. I can stare at it all day.
    I wonder though, why does it have to be a woman? We aren’t spooky and we certainly don’t enjoy anything muddy in our homes. ☺

    • Mushy, um, yes. That happens to me too. But sometimes the mush turns to blues. 😦
      Haha, very valid point you have there. But this is precisely why it is a woman and why she is scary. She is unlike me and yet in my window! 😛

  4. We are in a very wet time of year right now with rains nearly every day. I have a leak in my roof. It needs fixed and I can’t do it. Still, i hear the rain and smile and think how beautiful it is. I don’t doubt monsoon season is bad, but your perspective can be anything you choose! 🙂

    • Warm welcome to my place. I have to agree with you on this – our perspective often decides our mood. And yes, rains are indeed beautiful. I love watching it rain from my balcony and seeing the leaves washed off dust and grime. Only occasionally, rain manages to get me down and I miss the sun. All in a day’s game, I guess. 🙂

      Glad you decided to drop by! 🙂

  5. Fight Monsoon Blues on her own terms. When she shows you slick mud, you see rain cavorting with soil. You see the intricate patterns of mud finding its way to who knows where, the direction dictated by terrain and gravity. When she shows you driving rain on your windows, you see the trails down the glass of each drop of water. When your room goes cold and your curtains dull, you make a hot drink of something special and wonder at the subtle changes that light can create on patterned fabrics. When you miss the sun, remember that absence makes the heart grow fonder. Tell Monsoon Blues you are going to celebrate Sun’s return.
    When Monsoon Blues tries to get you down, marvel at all these things and remind her that she is just one aspect of nature, and that there are so many more that can be celebrated. The next time you see her looking at you through the window ………. give her your biggest smile and say “Do as you wish, but my life is good and will last longer than yours!” 🙂

    • Only you could have said something as heartwarming as this, Colin. Your spirits and positive attitude never cease to amaze and inspire me.
      Cheers especially to how I now have a perfect response for the woman in my window: she will be gone soon; she hates the sun! What’s more, we can also have a rainbow when it rains and I am sure her inherent despair will not let her remain in my window when that happens. 😉

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