The full force of the monsoon

Today the monsoon hit, hard. 54MM of rain fell in Laporiya in a couple of hours. As my Indian father sweetly joked, it was also monsoon in my bedroom. Even though the mason came a couple of weeks ago to fix the holes on the flat roof above my room and fitted a blue plastic sheet, the rain found it's way in. When I opened the door after my shower I found cascades of rainwater pouring in through the crack where the ceiling joins the wall above my desk. Everything on my desk was soaked, which included a notebook full of personal thoughts that's very dear to me, my Norton Anthology of Poetry, my laptop, the paperwork I need to give to the police to get my visa extension, all the photographs on my wall and plenty of other bits and pieces. It was pretty devastating especially as I'd been feeling low anyway. I've cleared up the worst of it now and am ready to renounce all my worldy possessions so that I don't feel the sense of loss again after another natural disaster.

For the rest of the family and for the staff at GVNML, and for all the villagers, it was a good day. Enough water fell to fill the ponds and irrigation systems that GVNML spends all year building. In fact this has been the best monsoon for a few years, but it's still not enough to cure years of drought.
Mama celebrated by making pakora, and Laxman Singh, my father and founder of the NGO gave me a bottle of 'spicy wine'. It turned out to be whiskey, made in Rajasthan. So after not drinking for 6 weeks I'll raise my glass to the monsoon.

Photos from top to bottom: the offending crack; the damage done; the village talab outside our house almost full; celebratory pakora; Rajasthani whiskey.