Got delayed at work on Monday and - as I was stepping out - a colleague mentioned "heavy rains outside".
The first instinct was of this being badly-timed humour. After three hours of drizzle that brought Delhi to its knees last week, the weather here has been really hot and humid.
The clouds have floated through and teased in several areas, but failed to oblige.
Monday was different, though. The main reception of the building was flooded and people were reluctant to step out in the heavy downpour and lashing winds.
A colleague had kindly offered me a lift, but there was one problem. The driver was waiting outside and the cops were pestering him to move the vehicle away.
In the 30 seconds it took us to reach the car, both of us were totally drenched. Thankfully, neither of us stepped into a manhole - whose cover had been removed by someone keen on allowing water a way out.
The journey back home seemed like a replay of last week. The streets were flooded and vehicles carefully lined up to navigate through the least flooded bit.
In some places, an entire tree or some of its branches had bowed down before the might of the wind. With traffic cops missing (they too are humans, after all), people jostled for space along the narrow corridors - resulting in huge jams.
Luckily, the cops' impatience with the driver proved helpful for us. We managed to make most of our journey without getting stuck anywhere.
Growing up in Delhi, monsoons would be so much fun. After a long hot summer, the arrival of clouds and rain was amazing. The soil would smell divine when the rain poured down, and the leaves on the tree looked greener.
Back then, monsoon would be a month-long affair and a massively anticipated and enjoyed time of the year. It would rain heavily very often, and the possibility of getting caught up in shower was high. Also high was the possibility of the two-wheeler stalling as water entered its exhausted on the flooded roads.
None of that was a cause of worry, though. A quick change of clothes and one was ready to savour a hot cup of tea and sizzling pakoras and contemplate one could bunk college next day and enjoy the rain.
If you are home, watching rain fall down is still fun. The soil still smells magical and the cool breeze feels wonderful against your skin. And those droplets falling from tree-leaves - hours after the rain stopped - look beautiful.
But in the intervening 10 years, the sun has become hotter, the summer longer and the rains rarer in this city of a million dreams. Hundreds and thousands of new flats have come up as the city's green cover takes cover. Hundreds and thousands of new cars have come on to the roads as the government shied away from its responsibility of providing good public transport.
Rather than curb this relentless construction or the insane growth in privately-owned vehicles, the authorities have focused on easing the movement of people and vehicles by building more flyovers - many shaped like bowls.
When it rains, the water starts collecting at the bottom of the bowls. Soon, the level starts rising - slowing down or cutting off the flow of traffic.
People blame the authorities. The authorities blame some other authorities. Those authorities then blame the pressure of Commonwealth Games. Somewhere along the line, someone says "I am sorry" and hopes the matter will come to a rest.
Which is what mostly happens. The other night, a senior Delhi minister expressed his apology - with a qualifier that it is difficult to predict which areas will be flooded, as different places get flooded every year.
If you ask the citizens of Delhi (and a rather ignorant and inarticulate one was on the panel as their representative in that TV discussion), the rains aren't that clever. They flood the same places, year after year.
But neither the TV presenter nor the representative of Delhi's people thought it was worth putting that to the minister.
It seems neither the government nor the citizens are willing to admit their complicity in making the situation what it is.
For everyone, rains bring uncomfortable questions. They have got used to the heat, with air conditioned offices, homes and cars. The Delhi government claims it is a "power surplus city". The citizens have boosted this with private power back-up.
Sounds peculiar, but of all the friends commuting back from work, only one enjoyed the rain - and he was travelling in the Delhi Metro!!
Anyway, the rain had eased by the time I got closer to home. Last week, I had to get off my auto rickshaw because someone holding a religious function had erected a tent in the middle of a service lane.
On Monday, it seemed much easier and faster to walk than negotiate the distance in the car.
The only thing I was dreading was the power supply. Last week, the electricity company had switched off our power supply for more than three hours. An automated message on their helpline said "This is for your own safety and the safety of the electrical equipment".
Thankfully, that didn't seem to be the case on Monday.
