Pitter Patter raindrops....

 

(image courtesy: Google)

There’s something so romantic about the rains!

The first drops of rain on the parched earth…just like a long lost lover gently kissing the woman of his dreams who has long been waiting for him. And when he comes she breaks into raptures. The buds blossom and the peacocks dance, telling him how much she’s waited for that moment of bliss. An all encompassing aroma lifts them to another world, and together, they sway….. to the song of love.

As I look out of my window and see the first dark cloud, it fills me with delight. The scorching summers have drained me of life. The sight of the rain cloud makes me run out into the open. I do not want to miss that first drop of rain, do I? I eagerly look up at the sky and wait with bated breaths. The moment of waiting is finally over when a tiny drop lands on my nose. Ah! He’s here, I tell myself, and wait with my arms spread wide and a smile wider than that! And then the magic happens! He pours down with all his might and I soak in his love. I breathe in the aroma that keeps filling into every cell of my body till it reaches my soul and tears flow down my cheeks. That is the kind of spell that the rains cast over me, holding me in its captive and I stay on like a happy prisoner…

I wonder if it is sheer coincidence that I was born during the monsoon, August, to be precise. Is that why monsoon is so dear to me? Could be! And the rain god makes sure to pour down with his blessings on each one of my birthdays, making it just that little extra special!

I had just finished my exams in May and no prizes for guessing when I landed my first job! In fact, I remember coming back home drenched after my first interview! It felt like the rain was congratulating me on my achievement! The rains have always been a harbinger of good tidings for me.

It was during one such lovely monsoon that I first met the man of my dreams. We got married four monsoons later! Need I mention when we got married? During the monsoon, of course, in September! Nothing could be more romantic! Our best moments have been those of going on long rides in the rain, Kishore da crooning in the background, and stopping at “tapris” or roadside tea stalls for that hot bite of the samosa and a hotter cup of ginger tea.

My best childhood memories are those of getting wet in the first rain of the season. Entire families would descend on the terrace of our apartment and the old and young alike would enjoy splashing with glee! It was considered healthy to get drenched in the first rain. One would supposedly be free of all ailments if the first drops of rain fell on you! Myth or not, we enjoyed every moment of it.

The beginning of the rains marked the re-opening of schools and meeting old friends. The excitement of wearing brand new starched uniforms and sparkling clean shoes is unparalleled. The rush of adrenalin as we entered our new classrooms and grouped together with friends is unforgettable. And it is these good old school days that I reminisce about even today when I think about the most carefree days of my life!

The rains also marked the beginning of the festival season. It starts with Ganesha Chaturti, when we would rally around for donations, help with installing the idol of Ganapati bappa, conduct the 10 day festivities and madly dance in the “Sandall” (for the uninitiated, that was our community dance without a fixed form or manner, you just needed to go all out and dance!). How can I forget  Raksha Bandhan, Krishna Janamashtami, Navratri and Deepawali that follow soon after? There would always be a little drizzle on the Lakshmi pujan day of Deepawali.  And it would feel like the monsoon was bidding us goodbye. Farewell until next year!

Sandwiched between two extreme seasons, the rains always provided a respite from the sweltering summers where the temperatures rose to a jaw dropping 48 degree Celsius and the winters where we almost froze at 5 degree Celsius! The temperatures were always right during the monsoon, neither too high nor too low.

My love with plants and gardening in general, borders on the crazy. If you are attentive enough you might even catch me talking to my little darlings! I find that these grow best during the rains. During monsoon my home garden is filled with pretty blossoms in every possible hue. And in turn it fills my heart with indescribable happiness.  

What better way to enjoy the rains than with mouth watering hot foods to tickle your palate? You can almost always smell that aroma of piping hot tikkis being made here and there, bubbling hot coffee elsewhere or tangy chats somewhere! And to sit by the window looking at the rains washing everything clean even as people walk by in colourful umbrellas and raincoats, while sinking your teeth into these delicacies is bliss!

I relate a lot to the rains because they are so much like me. A little moody, temperamental sometimes, romantic at times, lazy at other times, but never fail to bring a smile every single time!  

That’s what the monsoon means to me!!

I surrender....

A glorious sunset, a breathtaking view,

Crimson corundums in different hues

“Padparadscha” ,shall I call it?

Lotuses into the sun infuse.

An expansive ocean dances below,

Pounding waves, frothy brine and the tidal flow

Circling seagulls, caressing breeze, and luminous clouds,

Complete the mesmerizing tableau.

Shimmering ripples, molten gold,

A pompous sight to behold,

Spreading as far as the eye can see,

Stretching beyond the threshold…

The waves creeping up to my feet,

Gently kissing before it retreats,

Spreading a sheet of tranquility,

Making me feel blessed and complete!

Oh! Supreme artist and creator,

I bow before you in prayer,

Soaked in the beauty of your creations,

I surrender… I surrender….I surrender.

(image courtesy: google...)

* "Padparadscha" is a corundum, the colour which is a blend of the Srilankan lotus and yellow sapphire.

Ah! to be that river!

Originating from the peaks,
Of mountains steep and high,
Gurgling and dancing and singing,
A beautiful river flows by.

It runs through plains and plateaus,
And unwinds its way out,
Of deep and green valleys,
Twisting and turning about.

It stumbles over little pebbles,
Stones and rocks and boulders,
Yet fighting its way through,
It emerges out victorious!

Pure as fire, holy as a prayer,
A crystal, clear and bright,
Shining like gold in the sun,
And like silver in moonlight!

It is a never ending saga ,
That only goes on forever.
Living in the present ,
unmindful of the past or the future.

Thus ultimately it merges,
With the vast and deep blue sea,
A confluence of determined rivers,
A heaven, it happens to be!

There are other rivers that have,
Stopped having come a little way,
Ending up as small pools of water,
Never reaching the bay.

Their existence futile and cursed,
No parched soul they quench,
Just stagnant,muddy and lifeless,
A pool of stink and stench!

Ah! To be that river!
So brave and clear and pure,
Is so blessed and divine ,
Than a filthy life endure!

(The Diwali clean up yielded this poem tucked away in a yellowed diary...written by me eons ago!! there was something about the child-like yet inspiring poem...thought i'd share....)
(Pic courtesy: Google images)

Unrequitted love!

The beautiful earth smiled,

As she saw the first grey cloud,

Would her knight in shining armour,

Call out to her aloud?

Would he pour down upon her,

In his arms would her embrace?

Caress and tease and kiss her,

Make her heart pound and race?

She’d pined for him for long,

Bore the separation, the pang,

Living by memoirs of happier times,

When together they danced and sang.

He had drenched her with so much love,

She had blossomed into colours of every hue,

He had crowned her with his rainbow ring,

It had killed her to bid adieu.

Hearing him thunder and glow,

She was bedewed with mounting athirst,

Oh, there he comes, he felt him touch,

Upon her silken crust.

The magical moment she’d waited for,

Arrived, but sans all its glory,

For he came down with a force so torrid,

Shattered her with his fury.

Crushing her with all his might,

Destroyed her from deep within,

The beautiful flowers, the dancing trees,

Gave in, leaving her barren.

He raged and stormed all day and night,

And tore her soul apart,

She wondered why his love had soured,

Why hate had filled his heart?

As though by some crafted design,

He disappeared into the clouds,

Never to be seen or heard again,

In mystery it was shroud!

Through days and weeks and months,

She waited and pined for him,

Her lovely colours rusted away,

Her brightness starting to dim.

The sun shone bright and golden,

It burned her delicate skin,

Parched for his love and care,

She turned to stone within.

Would she ever be able,

To trust anyone else again?

Her heart and mind, body and soul,

Shattered by the deceitful rain.

Looking beyond..

Perched on the branch,
Of a weeping willow,
Feet overlooking,
A cold brook below.
Thoughts galore,
Heart weeping aloud,
Mind to the soul,
Virtually kowtowed.
The willow and the heart,
A cognate indeed,
Wish they knew ,
Better than to cede.
Looking beyond,
A purple sunset,
Together we shared,
A connate kismet.
The vast azure,
Masking the nebulous,
Propitious outside.
Underneath, Ominous.

The sunset..

An idyllic evening.

A picturesque boathouse.

Calming backwaters.

As the boathouse gently wades through the waters making a slurring sound it has a calming effect on my mind.

Seems more like a paradox, a troubled mind and the calming waters.

The boathouse itself giving the feeling of being encapsuled in a cocoon, hidden from view yet with an open window to the world outside. The waters slowly hit the cocoon in orchestrated motion, as if trying to beckon the worm inside to venture out.

Water hyacinth scattered everywhere.

Clogging the water, making survival for other life forms difficult. Neither fish nor other plants,none can really win the battle with the weed.

Beautiful purple flowers on the exterior, could deceive anyone. Appearances are deceitful, I thought, or are they? I thought of the weed that clogged my mind. The thoughts that had made survival of other nobler thoughts difficult.

Contemplation was leading me nowhere, so I dropped the idea and decided to concentrate on the serenity outside.

The boatman decided to dock, he had no permission to row beyond sunset.

Ahh! sunset, it first caught my eye only after the boatman had made a mention of it.

I alighted from the boat and walked to end of the groove nearby. And then I saw it. The huge ball of flame. Just as it was about to drown itself into the serene waters below.

A vibrant orange colour, the igniter of passion, signifying zest for life, enthusiasm, unending energy, fun, informality, friendship, open-mindedness. It drew my attention to being liberal and unconventional. And all that I thought it to be was going down. It slowly began its descent downwards, till I saw the last of it.

The orange sky with its jewel was all but gone, and was now growing pink and purple. Ominous as it seemed, it reflected the colour of the flowers of the water hyacinth I had seen all around.

But there was something ethereal about what I was seeing. It was beautiful to the level of intoxication. It almost took my breath away. It seemed to say, that beauty and nobility will remain even after everything has faded into nothingness.

I sat on the moist grass below and cogitated on the events that had unfolded that day. The reason why God had chosen for me to be here rather than anywhere else. On this boathouse, wading through the backwaters, among mats of water hyacinth and finally bringing it to a climax, the pristine sunset with all its after glow.

I suddenly felt light as if I had drowned all the complexities into those very waters. Light dawned on me before it could on the dark horizon. And I walked back to the boathouse with a proverbial 'spring in my step and song in my heart'.

It was yet another new morning and the sky was blue again.