If this was the start of a romantic comedy, the narrator would say:

“Meet our heroine. She’s smart, independent, a little clumsy, and blessed with curly hair that doubles in size the moment it even smells humidity.

She doesn’t know it yet, but today she’s about to star in her own rainy-day scene straight out of a Bollywood movie.”

And honestly, they’d be right.

Because if you’ve ever lived through Mumbai monsoons, you know the drill: you wake up, the sky is clear, and then suddenly, it would be like someone tipped the Arabian Sea over the city just for fun. 🌧️

That’s exactly what happened to me last week…

One second, I was walking out unarmed but peaceful from a bookstore, and the next, I was sprinting for cover as the heavens opened with a vengeance.

I ducked under a tiny shop awning, sharing it with another drenched stranger. Impossible to miss—six feet , broad shoulders, packed into a crisp white shirt that somehow looked untouched by the monsoon and hair & skin so perfect it could have its own Instagram account.

We exchanged that classic “Mumbai rains, oh god” look—equal parts resignation and amusement.🙄☺️

Then, in what could have been a straight-out-of-movie moment, he pulled out his perfectly crafted umbrella. For a second, I imagined a full-blown Jackie Chan–style rain fight—puddles flying, umbrellas flipping, and him emerging completely unscathed. 🥋

But it must be the full puppy-eyes , help me look, that he froze, looked at me, and let out the deepest, most reluctant sigh… before finally tilting the umbrella my way. And in that chance encounter, I thought, ‘So what if the rain is relentless? I can handle a little chaos,’ when suddenly, the most unexpected thing happened…

My curly hair—within seconds, had expanded into its own monsoon cloud. At one point, I swear my hair absorbed so much humidity, it developed its own zip code. Honestly, I think the poor umbrella gave up—not from the rain, but from the competition. 🫢

By the time we reached the main road, we were drenched anyway, my hair was auditioning for a wildlife documentary, and he was holding the saddest, most defeated umbrella in Mumbai.

But here’s the thing: instead of being embarrassed, I saw myself and couldn’t stop laughing. Neither could he.😂

Finally, we tried hailing cabs and eventually found rides going in opposite directions. As his cab pulled away, he leaned his head out of the window, still grinning, and shouted, “Hey… Curly girl! Next time, I’ll bring a bigger umbrella!”

Sigh… 🌧️☂️

If this really was a rom-com, this is what exactly the narrator would say at the end:

“And that’s how our heroine learned: in Mumbai,the rain soaks you, the streets test your balance, and your curly hair will rebel—but the right strangers, the occasional heroic umbrella, and life itself will make sure that, even when you’re embarrassed or it gets chaotic, you can’t help but laugh through it all.” 😁💕