For me it is nostalgia that dooms over as rains come. The pitter patter of drops falling on dead leaves, old tin roofs, window panes and that which accompanied by loud raucous croaking of mating amphibians creates a unique symphony. This song and dance recital of rain drops may have inspired many a composers in the World.
The overflowing nullahs bring fish, frogs, water snakes, crabs and turtles to your doorstep. They fall into the clogged drains and eventually perish during the dry spell. The nesting birds celebrate as newborns emerge. This is a period of plenty and the earthly creatures eagerly await for procreation to take place every year. The inundated fields augur hope for a bountiful paddy crops for teeming hungry millions in Asia.
Unfortunately this cannot be experienced in a concrete jungle. Only those fortunate enough to live in natural surroundings are regaled by this celestial orchestra. Few bother about the sights and smell of the rain on Earth. For Indira's rampage at time volatile and frightening has to be borne as a necessity with a snigger and discomfort. The ever persisting cold, humidity and dark skies sometimes depressing for days is all that a monsoon is.
The rain falls on eagerly awaiting dry and thirsty earth. The aroma of Earth exudes from the depths of its impregnable belly - the perfumers in India call it Itr a Gil. For nature lovers the musky perfume augurs fresh vigor and vitality. The carpets of green and verdant ranges are an enchanting sight for miles over - slush and potholes notwithstanding.
Monsoon is a period of birth and regeneration the nourishing drops fetch new life and repopulate the land. It cleanses the muck and human waste - shit - a year long stagnation a much needed succor. The life giving rains cannot be experienced in stifling hub of urban settlements. Take a monsoon holiday in hills or go for a rain drive and enjoy Indira's celestial bounty.
The overflowing nullahs bring fish, frogs, water snakes, crabs and turtles to your doorstep. They fall into the clogged drains and eventually perish during the dry spell. The nesting birds celebrate as newborns emerge. This is a period of plenty and the earthly creatures eagerly await for procreation to take place every year. The inundated fields augur hope for a bountiful paddy crops for teeming hungry millions in Asia.
Unfortunately this cannot be experienced in a concrete jungle. Only those fortunate enough to live in natural surroundings are regaled by this celestial orchestra. Few bother about the sights and smell of the rain on Earth. For Indira's rampage at time volatile and frightening has to be borne as a necessity with a snigger and discomfort. The ever persisting cold, humidity and dark skies sometimes depressing for days is all that a monsoon is.
The rain falls on eagerly awaiting dry and thirsty earth. The aroma of Earth exudes from the depths of its impregnable belly - the perfumers in India call it Itr a Gil. For nature lovers the musky perfume augurs fresh vigor and vitality. The carpets of green and verdant ranges are an enchanting sight for miles over - slush and potholes notwithstanding.
Monsoon is a period of birth and regeneration the nourishing drops fetch new life and repopulate the land. It cleanses the muck and human waste - shit - a year long stagnation a much needed succor. The life giving rains cannot be experienced in stifling hub of urban settlements. Take a monsoon holiday in hills or go for a rain drive and enjoy Indira's celestial bounty.
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