The view from the balcony of my room
This time, monsoons have struck Kerala before the slated time. Last night, as I lay on my bed listening to music, trying to catch sleep, there was a wave of cool air outside. I saw a glimmer of lightening and the sound of water drops, drumming slightly on the banana leaves, could be heard. Then the whole thing turned into a heavy downpour and the trees outside began waving to the music of the water drops. Monsoon had finally arrived in India. The downpour continued for hours. In the morning, the skies were overcast with dense grey clouds. The sun rays were attempting to pierce through the cracks in the eastern horizon. Like rays emanating from a golden lance, they shot through the skies for a moment, before they were pushed back by the increasing clamour of rain clouds. Like a phlanx arranged for a fierce battle, they were surging ahead in unison from the western horizon. The war cry of thunder was more audible now. It is simply magical to watch this spectacle by the sea coast. Fishermen are warned during these times to avoid journeys to the sea. But the fun from the sea side as the waves lash against the beaches is not to be missed. The huge banyan leaves by the temple side swirl around the branches like a fan set in motion by the wind. The leaves twirl to and fro setting a wave of a thousand small fans, the breeze from which gushes past you like a spray of rose water. Finally, the clouds settle down and the rains resume.
A snapshot of the scenary, taken while landing at the airport
The monsoon view from the Munnar Lake
The roads, washed by the new rains, gleam up for a while. The snakes too come out of their holes, their homes now flushed with the new bout of rains. Women rush up the stairs to remove their clothes from the clothesline tied up in the terrace. The force of the wind is such that no umbrella can save you from getting drenched. The winds blow against your face, carrying the raindrops with them. Lashing against you, the drops get absorbed by the clothes, which by now would be completely drenched. The frame of the umbrella above your head bends outward by the force of the wind and you are left grappling with your bag and the now deformed umbrella, leaving nothing between you and the dense sky above. The mundus (dhotis) are folded till the knees as slush starts forming around. In spite of the heavy rains in this coastal belt, one never sees floods of catastrophic proportions as one sees in Mumbai or Chennai. Man here knows the dependence on nature. He has not transgressed his lines so far. The nature too, hence, provides him protection. There is no fury here. If anything is left, is the joy of the first showers. Rains will continue now for the next four months as well. The monsoon’s doors of entry as well as exit are after all present in the green corridors of God’s own country. Hail Monsoons!