Last night we had our first monsoon rain! Some of you know exactly what that means and all the senses that are invoked. For the rest of you, I’ll tell you—it’s just an amazing phenomena. The weather since I’ve arrived has been hot, very hot but bearable. The past 24 hours, however, have been miserable. The air felt thick and stale, almost like wearing a body tight leather suit or something. Peacocks were calling out all day, and apparently even the snakes came out. Everyone, (everyone meaning every living plant and creature) seemed to know that the rain was coming. Usually I sleep out on the roof terrace. Last night I put out my bed and tucked myself in. Something felt unusually peculiar. I starred up at the sky and realized that for the first time since I’ve been here, the moon and stars were not to be seen. It was close to a full moon last night and still, I could barely see its outlining glow. I lied there staring at the sky just mesmerized by the ancient ritual migration of these massive clouds of rain. Like clockwork, (well almost like clockwork, apparently we are 10 days early this year), these clouds come rolling off over the ocean, and sorry to be cheesy, but they truly bring along life. There is literally not a drop of water in the rivers here. They are carved out gorges just waiting to be filled.
So, as I lied there, staring at these amazing clouds, wondering when they would drop their goodies, I felt a drop on my forehead. Before I had a chance to process what I felt, it began pouring! I leapt up and executed my previously thought out escape strategy. I rolled up my bed, slung my purse over my shoulder and ran downstairs. I told Daxa auntie it was raining and she went running outside—it’s good luck to “bathe” in the first rain. I personally, was not keen on soaking myself to the bone. She blasts the air-conditioning in her room, and I knew I would freeze. I just stood there in the corner, allowing the rain to hit my face. The smell is similar to the smell in the U.S. It’s a little different because there is much more rain, and much more dirt than concrete. For the most part, the smell is just much stronger, but generally the same idea. I have experienced many more rainfalls in the U.S. but for some reason, rain always reminds me of my grandparents’ home, and my grandmother. When I was little, teeny frogs used to come out when it rained. Of course I thought they would make great pets and would catch them in old Tupperware containers. My grandma pretended to be mad, but I knew she was proud of me. Ok, for those of you who have never experienced Monsoon, I hope I’ve painted a picture for you, and for those of you who grew up with it, I hope I’ve done it some justice!! Masis, kaka, kaki, foi and fua, comment on the blog with your experiences if you want. It would be fun for everyone to read!!
3 comments:
I still love to get wet in rain. When there is no thunder and lightning I go and sit on the deck several times a year and sing " Aav re varsad, ghebario parsad, uni uni rotli and karela nu shaak"
But I agree its not the same here for some reason monsoon rain in India is fun, romantic and nostalgic.
MOM
Niyati Beta,
This brings back a lot of old memories! I remember how we used to long for a rain after a long hot summer. Our bodies were pimpled and itchy from heat and sweat. The old myth was that if you bath in the first rain, the pimples go away! So, we did.
The sad part of monsoon was that another summer vacation came to an end and new school year began. It was also an end to a Mango Season. Ba won't allow us to eat mangoes after first rain, because EMA KIDA PADYA HOYA!! Oh, how I missed those days! Thanks for the Blog.
KAKA
Hi Niyati
Loved reading about your Monsoon experiences in India.
I have many wonderful memories of Monsoons since childhood in India. When we were kids, we bathed in the rain literally.. singing and splashing and just being kids on my Grandma's white kapchi tiled mosaic terrace.
Years later, when I was in College and staying in the hostel (dorm) in Ahmedabad, my Monsoon memories were of hazy silver - grey skies just before the rain came down .. and sometimes of magical purple pink orange cloudy skies shielding the sun. We thought how beautiful it looked and how wonderful it would be to go for a drive in a convertible !! Later in the night me and my friends would sit in the hostel balcony and watch as the 'Dalwada Laari', the 'Paun-bhaji Laari' and the 'makai wala' would pass by down below .. and all we could do was to just sit there and stare and crave .. but couldn't go out to get any of it as the hostel doors were locked at 8pm. We thought how lucky all the people were that lived at home.
Much later when I was done with college and lived at home, my Monsoon memories were of the the nostalgic smell of 'mati' (earth) after the rains and of the soft sounds of rythmic drizzling .. falling rain .. sitting by the window sipping Tea and mom making bhajias or something in the kitchen. Sometimes I would look out the kitchen window and see Urmiben painting something. It was just magical.
To this day I think most Indians crave cha and Bhajias in Monsoon !
Keep sharing your experiences.
Love Kaki
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