Monsoon magic

The rains have hit Pune, not with a gale yet, but with a drizzle. The weather has become cool, the air is laden with moisture, greenery has multiplied, pools of water have started collecting, and on the hilltops surrounding this city, the clouds have started accumulating, to form that unique monsoon phenomenon.

Monsoons bring a lot to the mind. The memory of choked roads in Calcutta. Incessant rains and floods in 1986, when our house became an island in the middle of a sea of water. Rain-soaked journeys to school, including an occasion when the school gates were flooded and we had to wade in with trousers rolled up! Playing football in the rains, in the mud. Listening to Raga Meghamallar on the old LP Record player at home .Further on, torrential rains in my college days, at Mangalore. Impromptu rain dances on the hostel roof. Getting wet on my bike. Rain-swept sea beaches. Further on, monsoon romances. And the not so enjoyable aspects like getting drenched from head to toe and going to work from Behala to Howrah on my bike. Rain dance office parties during my days at Hyderabad. Even in dry Delhi, monsoon had its moments- the good ones like long drives on the highway and the bad ones like unending hour traffic jams, which seem to happen when rains of any intensity hit the capital, and send the entire traffic system haywire.

And finally at Pune, trekking up Sinhagad fort in the monsoons. Returning like bedraggled scarecrows, but enjoying every second of second.

Monsoons bring succour to a lot of farmers across the country, but for me they bring out different kinds of feelings. For one, they bring out creativity, which is fairly understandable. And on the other hand, they bring out this restlessness with the realization that there is a world out there to be explored, far away from mundane existence, which comes alive to life in this season. Like the beauty of the virgin surroundings of Lohagad fort and the Karla- Bhaja caves in the monsoons. And the rain-swept, lush green countryside. And a  drive on the highway, with the undulating hills , and the clouds on the surrounding hilltops, for company.

I think it would be lovely to spend an entire week cooped away in a house on one of the surrounding hilltops, with nothing but books, music and food for company, just whiling time away and listening to the sound of the falling rain. No cellphones, no TV and no contact with the outside world. Will I get that kind of luxury in the near future? I don’t think so.

So, while I spend time in the daily cog-wheel of my life, I can live on a few memories which bring out the monsoon magic. Like the time we decided to have an impromptu rain dance during our college days- tiptoed to the hostel rooftop and jived away, a bit self-conscious in case someone saw us in our knickers! Monsoons would be especially heavy in Mangalore, bringing back memories of Calcutta, and late night parties during the monsoons, which are by definition, high-“spirit”ed in nature, were a phenomenon to enjoy.

Then there were the times I used to drive around on my bike with Doel in Calcutta, defying the monsoons and enjoying the drizzle. There was no car in those days, but I guess the happiness quotient was undiluted.

Monsoons bring out a lot of things in us. They make us think, reflect, explore. They also bring out phenomenal bursts of creativity. A SMS sent by a friend says,” Rain is not only drops of water. It is the love of sky for earth. They never meet each other but send love this way. “ Then again, she has also sent a SMS that says, on a slightly less poetic but more hilarious note,  “ Aasman me kaali ghata chhayi hai, Aaj phir Biwi ne do baatein sunayi hai, Dil to karta hai ki sudhar jaun magar, Bajuwali aaj phir bhig ke aayi hai.”

What amazing thought processes, on all sides of the spectrum, monsoons can stimulate amongst people! To each person his own. Happy monsoons!