The vagaries of weather & climate can never be experienced like you would do in India. With every change of season the country transforms itself - an effort to be in harmony with things. It is very difficult to describe playful Indian Summer as romantic because it is a feel. And romance is in the eye of the beholder. The vivid display of diminishing colors and drastically changing landscape are no less appealing as spring time fecundity.
The cool salubrious mornings followed by the scorching noons and dissenting nights offer admixture of relief and discomfort sometimes at extremes. The effect of the fall and erstwhile spring form cryptic display of the living and the dead. Even in the dry hot summer, the country functions ceaselessly, a mass of humanity well acclimatized with extremes of ever changing seasons. Bronze bodies in glistening summer. Paradoxically the people travel more in the heat of the summer. The torturous travel is absorbed by high expectation of visiting friends and relatives. For the fortunate it is the cool confines of Hill Retreats & Himalayan Ranges.
The dry hot summers are followed by pre-monsoon showers, a hide and seek game of rising and falling humidity. The blast of showers after much expectations augur new life everywhere. The monsoon blasts are an orgasmic relief from constant bouts of heat. The monsoon nurtures India. Even after remarkable technical progress, the country still depends upon the heavenly rains. A deficient monsoon spells disastrous for the Nation that depends upon every drop of precious flood.
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