O saavan raja!

Every year, they come back with a bang. Literally. They sweep across the sky, pour down relentlessly and everyone utters a sigh of relief. Finally, we say. Monsoon has arrived.
It begins with the weather becoming humid. Temperatures and tempers soar, clothes and sweat never part company and there is a general air of digruntlement.

But then suddenly, you see a patch of clouds in the sky and a flicker of hope builds inside you. And hence, it starts raining. Shower after shower of rain hits the ground, winds blow venting out all their emotions on the trees and sometimes, even lightening makes an appearence.

Its the aftermath of the rain, that is most pleasent. The air is clearer and the weather is cooler, not a single sign of the sweltering heat and humidity. There is musty smell in the air, which brings on a wave of nostalgia. People's clothes are damp, not from the sweat but from the rain.
The sky is bluer and the birds chirp endlessly. The grass, which was prickly, parched and yellow earlier was now much more softer and greener. Even people look brighter, after relieving the heat of the past few days, their colourful umbrellas glowing. It was as if the world was yellowing away, fading out and the rain has restored its original colours.
There is a traffic jam on the road, as cars splash through the puddles of water. Coffee shops are packed, while everyone tries to grab a mug of hot cocoa.

I see a family sitting cosily in their balcony, their comforters around them, watching the raindrops splatter on the ground. The smeall of hot tea and pakoras wafts from their house. Monsoon has come, they say. Its here.

Sigining off drenched,
Srishti