Come May and all eyes in India turn skywards for the much-awaited monsoon clouds. Yes, when the monsoon arrives, the entire country is caught in a frenzy, and the human mind shuts its windows to logical conclusions and rationale thoughts.
Instead it appears to don the garb of the uncontaminated Tarzan among his apes, swaying from branch to branch, under a dripping sky.
Even the most wrinkled hands or worn out boots, start tapping, as the raindrops begin their descend. Why do all hearts start quivering like the wings of a dancing peacock when black clouds embrace the sky and banish the autocratic summer sun?
The falling raindrops have a language and music of their own. As the clouds break, nature's orchestra starts playing the rain numbers. Even the animal kingdom and the world of flora and fauna cannot escape being overtaken by this monsoon madness.
Casts its spell
Like the moon that casts its spell on the sea and makes it forget its limit. The same happens to the human mind, when lightening leaves its blazing trail across the dark sky, with the thunder announcing its subjugation of summer. Just as every key of the piano has its own note, the same way the music of the dropping droplets varies from fall to fall. It is not a funeral song. It is the melody for the bold and the beautiful. Rains, like the other creations of nature, are not insipid.
Rain has no fixed form, it is as varied as the season. Sometimes there is a torrent and some times just a drizzle. It might drench you like a tree or just let you off by a little spray.
The rain can be fearsome when accompanied by hail and deadly when armed with hail. It can be at times just a whiff of the floating droplets, and at others you might be soaked to the marrow.
At times it might just be a sprinkle and at others it might pour like an untamed waterfall. There are moments when the raindrops touch you like the soft hands of a loved one, and at others they might be as biting as a sinister tongue
The surrounding undergoes a miraculous transformation. The dead nature sprouts with new life. When sweeping winds plunge the city into darkness, and falling drops knock on the window pane, disturbing the imprisoned silence. It is a time, when the drenched world shivers with every drop and the heart quivers like a caged bird for the boisterous world. Raindrops are not simply just an elixir to life; they are its symphony.
Literary creations
Poets and authors have immortalised this season in their literary creations. Kalidas, the famous Indian poet begs the clouds to become his messenger of love. There are others who equate them to the tears of separation, while some others see in them the ecstasy of the approaching green deluge.
Well, I have never dived to such philosophical depth. But one thing that is clearly visible and audible to me is the ballet of a soaked nature, under the harmonious beat of the falling rains. None can escape the magic of the monsoon. It gathers both the old and the young to partake in celebrating the arrival of the monsoon.
When you hear the raindrops clatter over your roof, just close your eyes and listen to what nature wants to convey to you through its falling raindrops. It is a mantra of social oneness. For the rains, the living and the dead are all alike.
Vimal Yogi Tiwari is a journalist based in India.
