The Lustrous Monsoon

The good old days! After taking a day’s break from work, to enjoy the arrival of the dusky lady, Monsoon, I just recollect and fondle my association with the lady for over thirty memorable years. As I could remember, our friendship started exactly like it’s portrayed in the picture. She never forgot to visit our houses and fields early in June and would depart us only after mid-September, that too unwillingly. Sometimes her friends too come along, though they are not welcomed fondly.

By May end, all the school going children would get ready for the new academic season with their new bags , books and definitely an Umbrella, usually bigger than their own sizes. Donning themselves in sometimes plain, sometimes coloured raincoats, anyone would love to have a road trip with her company. The wind that accompanies her would carry the umbrellas away to her directions. Hardly June knocks on our doors, the motherly lady too comes along, showing all her love on her children. Breakfast, lunch and for evening tea she never fails to accord her mates. Playing in the mud puddles, skating and splashing , the children too would enjoy her company. How can we forget her cool embrace just as we start to and start back? Everything in nature would respond to her call. The mango trees, laden with fruits empty her store during monsoon itself. The rivers at spate would change her white cloak into a brown one. The new song which she sings with chorus is a much awaited number any one would cherish to listen to, often.

I have special memories to myself when monsoon hits. I would sip hot tea, cover myself with a blanket, and would dream of the days when we, as children, ran to our orchards to pluck the fresh mushrooms that would sprout on the evening thunder , would imagine myself picking those fallen mangoes and smell it first, later filling it in sacks, would think of the the river by my home town which remains in spate and my trip every evening in a houseful boat for my maths tutions, our visit to see the sub merged paddy fields…all these flashes right in front of my eyes.

For hearts in love, she’s the lady love herself. With a romantic look, she recreates memorable moments in such hearts. Who wouldn’t love to have an exclusive long drive, who wouldn’t love to get wet, who wouldn’t mind to sit and talk, who wouldn’t mind to dream of their distant love, who wouldn’t love to fantasise their lives together, who wouldn’t love to cuddle with their partners? To me, monsoon has always been the epitome of love with her lustrous look. The halo she creates, with her onset is nonparallel, perhaps no other lady can recreate such aura. And I swear, I fall in love with her every time she seems appalling to me.

Monsoon was never fierce as she becomes at times these days. Her romantic, caring attitude has changed way for grudge. Flooding was never a feature she exhibited then. Everything changed over these years, except a few old hearts, I feel. Only those hearts that would hesitate to change! Can I become one among them and long for those old days to be back again?For I need to fall in love with you again!

Published by rekhashivam

Reading and writing is my passion. Philosophy, gender, Fiction, Mystery,Education, Thriller,I prefer these genres. But I must admit I am not a prolific writer. Just that I want to express and feel myself. Honest comments are heartily welcome.

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