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A Short Monsoon Diary

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45 views6 pages

A Short Monsoon Diary

Uploaded by

satyamsundaram451
Copyright
© © All Rights Reserved
We take content rights seriously. If you suspect this is your content, claim it here.
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A short monsoon diary

June 24
The first day of monsoon mist . I visited my
nanighar for holiday.And its strange how all the
birds fall silent as the mist comes climbing up the
hill .Perhaps that what makes the mist so
melancholy ;not only does it conceal the hills, it
blankets them in silence too. Only an hour ago the
trees were ringing with birdsong .And now the
forest is deathly still as though it were midnight.
Through the mist Munna is calling to his brother I
can near him running on the hillside but I cannot
see him.
June 25
Some genuine early -monsoon rain ,warm and
humid ,and not that cold high -altitude stuff we’ve
been having all year .The plants seem to know it
too ,and the first cobra lily rears its head from the
ferns as I walk up to the bank and post office .
The mist affords a certain privacy .
A school boy asked me to describe the hill station
and valley in one sentence , and all I could say was
; A paradise that might have been .’’
June 27
The rains have heralded the arrival of some
seasonal visitors -a wolf ,and several thousands
leeches .Yesterday afternoon the wolf lifted a dog
from
Near the servants ‘ quarter below the school. In the
evening it attacked one of Munna cows but feld at
the approach of Munna’s brother ,who came
screaming imprecations .
As for the leeches ,I shall soon get used to a little
bloodletting every day .
Other new arrivals are the scarlet minivets ,flitting
silently among the leaves like brilliant jewels .No
matter how leafy the tress, these brightly coloured
birds cannot conceal themselves , although ,by
remaining absolutely silent ,they sometimes
contrive to go unnoticed .Along come a pair of
drongos, unnecessarily aggressive ,chasing the
minivets away .
A tree creeper moves rapidly up the trunk of the
oak tree, snapping up insect all the way .Now that
the rains are here ,there is no dearth of food for
the insectivorous birds.
August 2
All night the rain has been drumming on the
corrugated tin roof .There has been no storm , no
thunder ,just the steady swish of a tropical
downpour . It helps me to lie awake ; at the same
time , it doesn’t keep me from sleeping .It is a good
sound to read by -the rain out side ,the quit within
– and , although tin roofs are given to springing
unaccountable leaks , there is a feeling of being
untouched by ,and yet in touch with ,the rain .
August 3
The rain stops . The cloud begin to break up, the
sun strikes the hill on my left .A women is chopping
up sticks . I hear the twinkle of cow bells .In the
oak tree ,a crow shakes the raindrops from his
feathers and caws disconsolately .Water drips
from a leaking drainpipe . And suddenly , clean and
pure , the song of the whistling thrush emerges like
a dark sweet from the depths of the ravine .
August 12
Endless rain ,and a permanent mist. We haven’t
seen the sun for eight or nine days. Everything
damp and soggy .Nowhere to go .Pace the
room ,look out of the window at a few bobbing
umbrellas. At least it isn’t cold rain .The hillside are
lush as late -monsoon flowers begin to appear -wild
balsam ,dahlias ,begonias and ground orchids .
August 31
It is the last day of august , and the lush monsoon
growth has reached its peak . The seeds of the
cobra lily are turning red , signifying that the rains
are coming to and end .
In a few days the ferns will start turning yellow ,
but right now they are still firm , green and
upright .Ground orchids , mauve lady slipper and
the white butterfly orchids put on a fashion display
on the grassy slopes of landour .Wild
dahlias ,red,yellow, and magneta , rear their heads
from the rocky crevices where they have taken
hold .
Snakes and rodents, flooded out of their holes and
burrows , take shelter in roofs , attics and godowns
.A shrew , weak of eye sight , blunders about the
rooms , much to the amusement of the children .
‘’Don’t kill it ‘’, admonishes their grand
mother .’’Chuchundars are lucky – they bring
money .And sure enough ,I receive a cheque in the
mail ,Not a very large one , but welcome all the
same .
October 3
We have gone straight from monsoon into winters
rain . Snow at higher altitudes . After an evening
hailstorm , the sky and the hills are suffused with a
beautiful golden light .
January 3
Winter rains in hills
In the hushed silence of the house when I am quite
alone , and my friend , who was here has gone , it
is very lonely , very quiet ,as I sit in a liquid
silence, a silence within , surrounded by the
rhythm of rain , the steady drift of waters on
leaves , on lemons , on roofs, drumming on
drenched dahlias and window panes ,while the mist
holds the house in a dark caress. As I pause near a
window , the rain stops. And starts again . And the
trees , no longer green but grey ,menace me with
their loneliness.

Jan 4
Late december . End of winter .The blackest cloud
I’ve ever seen squatted over banjhi , and then it
hailed marbles for half an hour . Nothing like a hail
storm to clear the sky .Even as I write , see A
Rainbow forming .

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