Rainy Day Musings in India
Monsoon memories
I loved rain watching as the moringa, tamarind, and bamboo tree boughs danced in the pelting rain. With some snacks, tea, and a storybook, it was even better. But the inevitable thunder and lightning would make me hide in a room. Electricity was often interrupted, sometimes for days.
The backyard was wild. Weeds everywhere. The leaf litter had gathered. I would see earthworms, chameleons, and even some snakes. Sometimes, swarming termites would emerge, and it was a sight to behold. The lizards had a feast, and it was a food chain demonstration. Mosquitoes multiplied and drove us away if we ventured into the garden. The bamboo thicket where hundreds of birds nested emitted a stench as the rain washed away the ammonia-rich excreta. After a few showers, it was better, but even the rotting litter smelled horrible.
I would watch teh silvery rain puddle on waterproof taro leaves. I would help my mother plant taro tubers and peanut seeds. She would sow pumpkin, cucumber, and other seeds. Gardening is an act of hope!
The rotted straw pile sprouted delicious mushrooms. What a joy to pick those delicacies one by one.
Our ranch hands plucked fish, shrimp, and crabs from the paddy fields and offered to us. Of course, with the use of pesticides and chemical fertilizers, they have became a thing of the past!
I am an expatriate now. I live in drought-stricken California. So, I try to visit India during monsoon times. Last time I went and gathered the memories below.
Guavas and mangoes are still dropping from the rain and wind-lashed trees. I am gathering the delicacies on teak leaves.
The lone pumpkin vine has sprawled. I am harvesting huge bunches, but it’s growing with more vigor. The leaves and stalk make sumptuous and nutritious recipes.
I even picked some jamuns or Java plums. It was nice to get the tongue purple and mouth puckered, after long.
Mother made chick pea flour pakodas to go with puffed rice and tea. They are a rainy day staple for Indians!
I watched the pretty Ixora flowers dancing in the rain.
Mango stones are developing seedlings. Rain means rebirth, sprouting of new lives!
Egrets are gathering twigs from the mimosa tree to refurbish their nests on the rookery atop the tamarind.
I can go on and on.
My readers, for practices like basking in the transformative beauty of rain, life seems beautiful.