Strong gusts of wind are blowing outside. It is a grey, cloudy, cool day outside. Just the kind of day I love. Not too hot, perfect to go out for a walk. The heavy clouds herald a heavy shower of rain - may be sometime later on in the afternoon. I am lying huddled in bed, lap-top perched against my knee wearing a warm sweater and a pair of socks. My mind travels to another time, another place in the past.
Ah the monsoons. What a lovely time of they year! The scorching heat of the summer is a thing of the past and so are the dried up branches of the shrubs and trees. The rains have brought with them a relief to the parched souls, the earth has turned a verdant green.
It is time to go back to school wearing a little red duck-back raincoat. Oh how I love my little raincoat. I feel so loathe to take it off. Monsoons mean the re-opening of school, levelling up in school (gosh, the farmville2 lingo seems to have become an inherent part of me ), new books, new teachers, sitting inside the classroom and looking out at the skies crashing down in walls of water.
Weekends spent curling up in bed under a blanket with a book in hand, and waking up in the evening to a cup of tea and some warm snacks - ah what luxury! Monsoons mean sitting in the kitchen with mom cooking something yum and the sound of the rains going pitter-patter on the tin chajja outside. The rain stops and it is time to run out with other kids and float paper boats down the rivulets of water flowing along the road sides. (We are not allowed to go and get wet in the rain. :-(We are told it is alright to get wet in the first rain of the season; getting wet in the rain after that can make one ill).
Monsoons herald the festive season with Nagpanchami heading the list. "Nagobala doodh, nagabola doodh" one hears the snake charmers calling out early in the morning, asking folks to come out and feed snakes with milk. The real joy of the day is adorning one's hands with mehendi (henna). The fresh green colour of henna and the aromatic smell are so pleasing to the senses, one can only know it through direct experience.
College days.....Monsoons also mean riding to and fro to college on a bicycle through small muddy lanes, coming back home with clothes covered with mud from being splashed by passing vehicles or coming back soaked to the skin, with mom and dad ordering me to first go dry my hair and change my clothes and mom handing me a hot cup of coffee. The years pass by. Monsoons still mean my getting soaked in the rain on my two-wheeler, but now the cold slowly starts getting to me through my clothes.
Sigh. This year, there have been strong winds each time it rains. The winds that I once loved, is now shut out by windows which are kept shut. The rain lashes against the window panes. My bones protest violently against the wind and the cold. No more question of going voluntarily and getting wet in the rain. I huddle under the blanket with a sweater and socks and a cup of hot coffee in hand and a lappie in my lap, telling the world what monsoons mean to me.