Wahinne ennewa. Rain is coming.
Oh, Haemedama. Yes, every day.
At this time of year, every day just after lunch, the skies grow dark and rumbling from afar heralds the tropical storms.
Soon the rain is lashing from the sky, causing torrents to fall from the roof tops and bending the palm trees with its force. Within minutes the lanes become muddy brown rivers that rise into pools where the waters catch.
For an hour or so Colombo holds its breath. The city sounds are drowned by the deluge and the air becomes saturated like warm fog.
And then it stops, until tomorrow.