Memoir Of A Monsoon

The following is a note that was originally written sitting in the research scholars room at EGRL, Tirunelveli on a rainy day in 2012. Rain was a rare phenomenon there, it happened only 10-20 days in a year. But Vittalapuram village is very beautiful when it rains! The grey surface turns into lush green. Rabbits, peacocks, snakes and a hundred varieties of birds, both local and migratory, looks delightful. Numerous ponds both in and around the campus fills with fresh water. But for the rest of the year, there was only hot bright sunlight and dust and in some months additional strong winds. When the monsoon starts again this year, I am sitting in the portico of research scholars hostel at IIG, Navi Mumbai. I am reposting the post from my previous blog which I don't update now a days.

It was not only because of its musical voice that I lost myself completely in the magic of monsoon rain. If it were so, I would have just listened to the rain sitting inside my room happily. The sharp wet touch of rain on my bare skin and its gently piercing sound for me is something of an emotional feel rather than a meteorological phenomenon. I forget about tides, convection, gravity waves and doppler radars when the rain feather touch my heart.

Oh, another monsoon came and soaked my country in its water pebbles. When I miss it, sitting in a dry remote village, far away in Tamil Nadu, what else can I do other than recollecting the memories of my past romance with it?

I loved and still love rain as well as its season. Monsoon, The most beautiful and romantic season my country is blessed with! If you fall in love with rain, it gives you the love back always and forever; more greenish more deep and more intense!

The notorious stream - road parallels!

It was during a monsoon, I still remember, I was hit by a lorry in the muddy country road going side by side with a big stream of fresh water. After playing football with my friends in the nearby water filled paddy fields, we all were going to the stream for a bathe. Suddenly I met the accident.

I still remember, the labourers in the lorry jumped out and took me to a hospital in the same lorry. I was in the general ward in the top most floor of Koya's Hospital roofed with asbestos. Heavy rain knocked over the asbestos sheets the whole night as if she needed to hit me hard. I badly wanted to meet her in the dark shade of the night; but I could not even wake up from my bed.

The day when I came out discharged from the hospital, I saw my rain was starting showering as if she is welcoming me back! I waved my hands to her sitting in the porch. I watched her sitting in the dashing car. She called me crying, knocking and touching over the window glass. But I could not go out to embrace her. I tried to touch her on the glass from inside. We desperately thirsted for each other, but circumstance did not allow us to unite.

Football in rain still attracts people in Kerala. But everyone
must not be lucky enough to have a country road nearby
and meet a lorry accident to feel the love of rain peacefully.

Every experience of love is filled pain. But try loving the rain, it is different! Once you are in love with her, you will never want to miss her! The more you are away from her, the more passionately you love her! She will love you back with all the forms of emotions and  expressions a lover can have! What ever you think that you will get from a lover, she will give you. Solace, comfort, touch, pain, care, parting, melancholy, romance, relief; you tell what are all the things you think you will get from your lover. You will get them all from the rain.

The car reached home. Rain was silent. The shower was over. Like blood dissolved tears of rain, muddy water was flowing below the car. Sitting inside the clouds, rain desperately tried to tell me something. Before she can utter anything, my Umma took me into my home. In ultimate pain, rain stormed down all the night.

Looking Back From Top: A Summer View of Navi Mumbai

New Panvel as viewed from Nevali hill

This is not a post on philosophy nor this is a retrospection as the title may suggest. It is about an interesting but short trekking we had made few days back. Morning was really early: at 3.30 am, around Brahma Muhurtham according to ancient Indian culture! Me, Sunil, Dupinder, Sukanta and Sreeraj all the five packed and walked straight to the top of the hill we used to see every day and night from our institute. The hill is east to the institute and stand like a protecting fort to the city of Navi Mumbai. Panvel area, where our institute is located, is the eastern most part of Navi Mumbai.

Khanda Colony

At 3.40 we checked out at the institute gate and walked through the quiet streets of Khanda Colony. CIDCO has constructed the city beautifully in rectangular plots and sectors. Crossing the railway line and moved ahead, again crossed the Mumbai - Pune express high way. This well admired Mumbai - Pune express highway acts like a border between the city and rest of Maharashtra. We have to move a little more, say 1.5 kilometer, to reach the village of Nevali, at the foot of our destination: the Nevali Hill.

As we crossed the highway through below the Mumbai - Pune Express Highway, it appeared as if we are entering a different country. In a few meters, everything changed. Roads became a series of potholes. Surroundings empty as against the sky scrapper forest that we just left behind. We were entering a village from city. The most important lesson that I learn from my country is that, good facilities in life are meant for a different class of people. Villagers and city dwellers have different duties: villagers are there to produce food for city dwellers and city dwellers are there to decide the financial and industrial fate of the country. The benefits of what villagers do always go to the city dwellers but the benefits of what city dwellers do never go to villagers very often! In general, the flow of the fruits of development is unidirectional in India, according to me. People may differ to me. Gandhi might have told that the soul of India is in its villages. If that is true, the soul of this nation is not very healthy, it is ill.

As we continued to walk forward, a cement mixing transport truck stopped and asked us if we want to go with them. We nodded no and they left us. We continued and reached the village Nevali at foot of the hill at around 4.40 am. It was still dark. We needed a cup of tea, but tea shops had not been opened yet. Dogs barked all the way from the time we entered the village. We started climbing up the steep rocks. I have never climbed such a steep hill before. Dogs, did not stop barking. But Sukanta, Sunil and Dupinder had already came here last monsoon. Activating its water falls and blanketing in green, the hill and village are very beautiful during monsoon. Few miles away from our institute, we could see the silver line water falls in the hills during monsoon. But sadly, in this summer, the hill was dry. We reached at the top of the hill after one hour, exactly at 5.40 am. Sun had not risen up. We removed our shirts and fell down to relax at the top of the hill! It was quiet a tiring ascend through the steep slopes of Nevali! The city was looking great. The express highway was still busy. We tried to spot IIG but could not do so as it was still dark. Dupinder was busy with video graphing and photographing. As time passed, we saw that light was spreading slowly and Sun appeared behind us. From the top, the city looked like a port where so many cargo boxes have been kept one above another. Then there was the mighty Panvel creek, the mighty wetland of Navi Mumbai that interspersed the mainland.

At that table-top hill, there was a small village too. There were cattle and chicken and a few trees. Then we saw women fetching water to their houses, they were carrying 3 - 4 pots one above another carrying water! We could spot a tiny dam where these people fetched water and washed their clothes. There were small patches of vegetable cultivation too. After eating some bread and banana, we wanted to go back. We entered the village and asked if any road was there. They showed us a muddy road leading down to the village. The hill was being eaten up by quarry miners! So many tipper lorries are already in queue and granite crusher have already started working. We could feel how the city was growing and the village decaying!

At 9.00 am we reached Nijo hotel at Khanda Colony by an auto that we got from down hill the village. Hotel is on the other side of the railway track where the autowallah dropped us. There was the huge pipe line that supplied water to the city. Water was gushing out through a crack that some one created with immense effort. A tea shop was there close to the pipe and the shop woman is getting water through a small hose inserted into the crack! We crossed the railway track and had our grand breakfast at Nijo hotel. Our legs were paining and we all were tired. Our clothes became dirty in the early morning itself! After an hour, we reached back at hostel and fell into bed and sank into deep sleep.