We are in what I call the dregs of the monsoon. The time of year that makes me ache for a way to extend time. Prolong it, pickle it and stash it away in a bottle for a rainy day. And I mean that entirely metaphorically because a “rainy” day that needs a monsoon fix would actually have to be a day completely devoid of rain. Like the kind we are heading into. I know this because I’m seeing the telltale signs of the waning monsoon that make me yearn to, like I said, find a way to preserve this goodness for good.
The downturn begins to show in the slightest, most subtle ways. An extra ten minutes of daylight before the sun goes down. The sun fearlessly shines through the cloud cover that struggles to hold it’s ground. People are ‘forgetting’ to carry their umbrellas. Some are even trading them in for sun glasses. The crispness of clean air gone, humidity makes a comeback, weighing down on everything. The light turns from a dull grey to tinged with blue, sometimes yellow. Long strokes painting the views in hues of post monsoon glow.
I find myself unwilling to let it go. Longing for the sounding if water tumbling outside. The lull of a day heavy and dripping with a week’s worth of rain. The sea a marbled vat of shades of brown and red, churning on furiously. The newness of baby leaves giving way to the confidence of growth. The pristine, clean air hazy once again with specks of dust and grime.
I realise the monsoon is more than just the sum total of the years precipitation. It’s a bit of a production. With us grabbing it as a legitimate excuse for the extended hours of sleep, deep fried snacks, weekends staying in, kickstarting that lost reading habit, taking longer afternoon naps dead to the world, pulling out the stops in creatively reimagining your laundry situation — it is about so much more than just the rain.
It’s that time of year again — the monsoon is ending, the rain is leaving. And I’m trying to hang on to it while it’s still throwing some scraps this way. I want to make the most of going riding in the rain, wearing my rubber slippers all the time and everywhere, eating a warm snack at 4 pm with my chai, using my oven to grill meat and veggies again. It’s like a much needed time of restoration and regeneration. As much as the monsoon forces you to slow down, stay cooped up and recuperate, it is a time for the energy to gather itself, bubbling beneath the surface. Come September-October, the sunshine life will kick in again.
We’re already getting our share of brisk days, with a steady feathery drizzle, cotton candy clouds and eye0popping greens all around that beg you to get out just a little and begin to get used to it again.
Who can resist a the-monsoon-is-ending kind of day like this?