The Rain

The rain drenches that part of the heart which had been lying barren in all the other seasons.

Like a bird, it soars to touch the limitlessness of the sky, to gather wind in its  feathers.

The sound of pouring rain births that piece of the jigsaw puzzle, which had been missing in all the other seasons.

Filling the void, painting the big picture, completing the circle of life.

Rain

Monsoon -10

Monsoon-9

Selfie of flowers in rain.

Pre monsoon-4

Monsoon is round the corner, when you can hear peacocks  screaming, first thing in the mornings, instead of cuckoos singing.

When ants work persistently and can be seen rushing to their hills.
When the Sun plays hide and seek throughout the day with the clouds.

When bolt of lightning cracks its whip without any rain.
When winds are stronger and blow away the dark grey clouds.

When all the old leaves have already fallen off and new ones start growing.
When the cracked Earth sizzles upon receiving an abrupt short shower.

When people remember to carry umbrellas to work but forget to bring them back home.

When the farmers scan the sky everyday and hope for the right amount of rain.

Pre monsoon-3

Waiting for the rest of the blooms to bloom,
the tender buds to break out into clusters of petals and sepals.

Delicately shivering in the wet morning breeze,
attracting bees and butterflies with their faint magnetic fragrance.

Waiting for the rest of the blooms to bloom,
the flowers to outnumber the leaves, the colours to contrast with the greens.

Bunches of reds, whites, pinks, tenderly bowing with their weights.
intoxicating the passer-by with their sweet scent and beauty.

Waiting for the monsoon, so that the Earth could come alive,
succeeding in imparting life, which only the magical rain water could give.

Waiting one day at a time, for the dark clouds to loom,  for that abrupt shower,
to turn into consistent downpour.

The Summer rain

Lightning flashes like swords of Gods, thunder rolls like drum beats. Gray sky turns pale pink with each strike .

Leaves upturn their faces towards the biggest show on Earth. The magic, the drama unfolds.

The parched, dry Earth waits to catch  the beads of water in its palm,  while the wind tries to sweep away the gathering gray clouds.

Lightning begins the game of hide and seek with shadows. The rain starts, one drop here, another there and suddenly a downpour.

Streamlets start flowing on the roads, commuters get drenched in seconds. No umbrellas in hands, people rush to take cover.

Puddles fill up immediately, dirt washed off, make things muddy. Pedestrians huddle under any shade they can find.

Sometimes hail accompanies, falling  from sky like white  unwrapped sugar candies. Damaging months of farmers' hardwork in minutes.

And the show suddenly stops...as abruptly as it had begun.

Winds win in blowing away the clouds, thunders move out of earshot. The Sun peaks out and lo! The rain is over.

Sun starts shining with a vengeance. The rainbow silently, colourfully tries to attract attention towards itself.

People resume their commute, dirtier than usual.  Hazards await, stray dogs shake themselves dry, inconsiderate motorist splash water as they speed.

Meanwhile, the clouds start gathering up again, defeating the force of winds. Blocking the Sun once again and the audience waits for an encore.

September-2

The sky is getting clearer, clouds beginning to disperse with winds of change.

The wind is getting cooler, Sun beginning to shine more often over the mountain range.

Days and evenings not somber anymore, grays converting into vibrant landscapes.

Wetness drying up, no more downpours, colours popping up like lady's drapes.

Relief from heat, break from the rains. Seems like the Earth is ready to exhale.

Monsoon 7

Brilliant white surfaces when washed with rain water.
With just a hint of yellow to break the monotony.

Facing ,turning towards the Sun.
Soaking up the warmth after a wet humid spree.

Dragon fly resting peacefully, unaware of the beauty around it.
Green leaves, waiting for their turn to take center stage.

The visitors.

🐞🐝🐞

 

I am visited by butterflies, when I walk into the garden.
Yellow butterflies flying off little yellow flowers as if the whole bunch just grew wings.
Urging me to raise my arms to touch them but in vain.

I am visited by a tiny 🐦bird, when I walk into the garden.
Little black bird residing on the tall green bamboo🎍, chirping as if the bamboo found its voice.
Startling me everytime it flies away.

I am visited by ants 🐜🐜🐜, when I walk into the garden.
Tiny red ones, building anthill in a quiet corner as if  the garden were their kingdom, protecting them from rain.
Stinging me, sending shivers up my spine as soon as I step on the grass.

I am visited by strange small white  frogs🐸, when I visit the garden.
Jumping to hide in the hedge, making it shake as if the hedge acquired dancing feet.
Making me jump back, petrified their predators🐍 may follow soon.

I am visited by droplets of water falling down from wet leaves.
Creepers bowing, shaking off their flowers on me, greeting me in the mornings.
Reminding me I am alive and awake, when I visit my garden.
                  🐝
                         🐝

🐞

                                                                                          🐞

Pre-monsoon

Waiting for the first monsoon shower, the one which will leave in its wake, gift of Life.

Monsoon 6

Lightning ignites flames of hope in the eyes of farmers.
Rumble of the sky urging them to sow their present.
Thunders challenging to stand up against all odds.
Pouring rain turning soil into fields of future.
To reap life.....for monsoon is here, here!

Monsoon 5

The first Summer rain.

Scorching Sun dries and makes brittle the leaves, Earth starts cracking up like honeycomb.
Birds fly high and low to find  just a few drops of water to quench their thirst. Stray animals find shade under the trees and in  abandoned half built houses. People  try to stay indoors to be safe from the brutal heat.

...and then the clouds are summoned,  vast expanse of sky turns grey, air turns cool, wind picks up speed. Dust swirls make small whirlwinds with dried leaves. The wind chimes start tinkling rhythmically,  trees start swaying to the music of dust filled breeze, eyes are turned towards the sky, in anticipation of that first drop.

...and when the first  drops fall and hit the dried earth, the smell of wet earth intoxicates the senses like thousand  sirens. The drops turn to a gentle shower, a drizzle. Sky makes noise to declare freedom from heat, lightning is like celebration of nature. Dust settles, plants get a well deserved wash. The roads start shining. Dogs in the neighbourhood start barking, going round and round in circles with their tongues sticking out.

People come out of the homes for no reason at all, conversations start budding. Children start dancing, screaming, getting wet, soaked, drenched. Grown ups also stretch their arms to feel the rain on their palms as if they have never touched water before.

The first shower of summer is like magic, magic which leaves us  desiring for more, to experience more, to enjoy more, to feel more, to live more .

The January Rain

Clouds cover the sky, forcing the Sun to hide. Cool becomes cold, chill turns into freeze. The air is like bee stings. Relief, it does not bring. It is sombre, it' s gloomy, it is dark. The drops are like needles piercing the skin.
Yet, the January rain indicates, the end of a harsh season, the rain bringing with it life. Rain, which impregnates the whole Earth to give birth to a new season.

Monsoon 4

Monsoon 3

🌈

Monsoon 2

Monsoon