Yesterday evening the skies opened, and brought to the hot and thirsty city glorious relief! The temperature has fallen and the pleasantly cool ambience envelops us. I am totally in empathy with the peacock that dances when the monsoon clouds come with promise of rain – had I a plumage wonderful enough to display, I too would have spread it and tripped the light fantastic in the downpour.
This is an oft-used metaphor in Hindi film songs (the extent of my knowledge of Hindi poetry is nil). And there are so many of those songs, celebrating the rains.Baarish, Barsaat, Saawan....
The trees and leaves have been washed clear of the roadside dust,
and the leaves glisten with trembling globules of water, waiting to drop off. Alas, we have no flowers in our grounds, only trees. And one solitary hibiscus bush. But what flowers we have were placed on the balcony to be washed clean - the artificial flowers created out of silk look as good as new after their spell in the shower.
At times the strong wind slammed the doors and rattled the window frames. But nothing will stop my husband from taking his evening walk, not even the rains. He went out armed with his ‘wimbrella’. My son’s boss who gave it to him had said that it could hold its own against the strongest wind. And that claim was proved, said my husband on his return.
....and here is one of the rain songs I love, fresh even after nearly half a century. Rimjhim, from 'Kala Bazaar', with Dev Anand and Waheeda Rehman, and sung by Mohammed Rafi and Geeta Dutt.