MIDWAY : Magical monsoon
Imagine! Waking up to serenading birds as they chirp and twitter in the early morning sunshine. How peaceful and harmonious the music sounds. A wonderful start to the day.
Or how about the susurrus from the swaying boughs and the twirling leaves, breaking the spell of the midday heat, as the wind sweeps the land?
And to beat it all, how about the lullaby of the rain falling, just when you’re about to go to bed? Does it not instantly put to rest your tired body?
Even during the day, when it rains, I abandon what I’m doing and just listen to the patter. Sometimes I hear tin roofs crackle, complaining of the merciless beating by the rain. The leaves speak to me at other times, thanking rain for allowing them to flourish. Sometimes, the hard rain bouncing off the concrete street is like a diva dancing in an opera.
I know the ugly side of the rain too. It can swell up the rivers, burst their banks, and allow them to collect cattle, men, and properties as they rage wild like bulls just released in the open after a long period of captivity. I hear of the news of mudslides also, the hills carving open and burying everything in their wake.
But I also see barley fields sway, inviting farmers to pluck them out and feed the hungry mongrels, the rain having nourished them to full potential. The rain also makes water
gush out of our taps as it feeds the parched and perennially leaking reservoirs, and we no longer have to wake up at wee hours to fire our generators and suck what water there is.
And at nights, we can sit together as a family and watch television. No longer do we need to scamper around for candles to ward off darkness. The ubiquitous power cuts vanish into thin air with the rain.
That’s why I always relish the sight of gray clouds scurrying at great speed, hanging low, releasing thunderous bolt of lightning and allowing rain to come crashing down.
I also want to see the rainbows split the sky in two, and lovers huddled together in a small shelter, trying to avoid getting drenched and feeling flowers blossom in their hearts as their gazes lock together. Ah, the rain. But only on the monsoon, please.