Rain, rain don’t go away …

Rains … take up any tourist information on Kerala and you would find the “season” to be marked as any time other than June-August. Ironically, this is the “season” when “God’s Own Country” spreads it’s green carpet, literally. It finally took Channel 4 of BBC to film “Rains in Kerala”, to indicate what the tourist misses out on. And then, Alex Frater wrote a book titled “Chasing the monsoon”. I am told that this book has kind of, become a cult classic, in the sense, that it has spawned its own category of backpacker followers, who ‘track’ the monsoon as it hits Kerala coast in the first week of June, makes its way across the plains to reach Arakan mountains in Burma, and all the way back across the Bay of Bengal. But, rain evokes some very special memories.

One did not look forward to rains, as a kid, especially if schooling is done in Kerala. Rains mean that one would have to wait till Onam (August-September, that is) for that new pair of Bata “Naughty Boy” shoes, one could not play during the 1 hour “games” period every week, that one had to get all messy with the raincoat, or be good at a balancing act, if one was adept enough to risk riding a bicycle with one hand on the umbrella and a sackful of bags dragging you back. Rains also meant that the fun involved in walking in ‘hawai’ sandals turned to travails for whoever washed your clothes, for the hawai has this fantastic ability to throw mud onto any portion waist downwards on the backside! Rains also brought ailments in its wake – cough, cold, fever invariably followed that adventurous jaunt in the rain. The explosion in mosquito population, coupled with the predictability (thanks to “another scorching summer”) of our electricity board meant sleepless nights, and that too in non-exam season! How criminal can you get! There was also the problem of pungent smelling clothes, for want of sun, and of course, the mud coloured socks that would be the challenge for any “New, extra power, super white” detergent powder.

But, still I loved rains. The smell of sand that the first rains bring, is intoxicating, to say the least. The small puddles that form in the cracks on the tar roads have this strange colour that no rainbow can match – of oil drops from leaking, creaky vehicles that get mixed with the water. Watching the “crowns” that get formed when large droplets drip down from tree leaves onto already formed puddles was fascinating to watch, especially if one was lying down in the sofa in the front room verandah of our house. Croaking frogs give comfort through the sleepless nights and the already lush greenery glistens with the lustre of multiple rounds of ‘finish’ that the rains keep providing. The movie Piravi (by Shaji Karun, the highly acclaimed Malayalam director - of Cannes fame – if that helps, for the uninitiated!) that captures the beauty of the Kerala monsoon like no other, springs to mind.

Monsoon to hit Kerala with a week’s delay is today’s news – and is a national level headline maker! Here I am, in Mumbai, looking out at the Southwestern sky – no it will take at least two weeks to darken. And rains in Mumbai – a different ball game altogether – trains in disarray, slosh all around and the strains that the city and the people go through in accommodating the poor umbrella! Mumbai, a city where there are islands of prosperity in a sea of poverty, rains deface you (can also be read as clean up!), unlike the gloss that they provide to Kerala.

Meanwhile, I am off to check out “Chasing the monsoon” at the nearest bookshop …!