Monsoon Medley

The Southwest Monsoon has arrived. I can verify that with a conversation I had with my cook. She speaks little English and I speak no Tamil. But she verified it nonetheless.

Yesterday it poured, and it poured again today. There is nothing special about Monsoon here, at least not for someone new to it. The city I live in is up in the mountains where the climate isn’t as hot as down on the plains, so for vegetation it is a relief I suppose, even in this tropical area, but for human beings there is no relief from the blazing sun.

The best I can say is it is a lot like April showers back home, a warm welcome but other than that nothing to take a picture of. No dark clouds like I was hoping — that will have to wait until next year, when I go down the mountain to wait for it.

But I did take a short video from my front porch.

It is the rain of Lord Krishna, the rain of romance, the rain of renewal, the rain of relief, the rain of poetry.

My youngest son just might be a poet someday. Writing apparently is his weakest subject at school, but he can recite “The Road Not Taken” by heart, and he has a knack for homonyms.

Idli is a mashed up rice pancake that is served with dhal. He doesn’t like rice and dhal. But he does like idli and dhal. Why? It’s just rice! Yes but…

“I love Italian food and Italian food comes from Italy — get it? Italy, Idli?”

That’s my son…

Maybe it’s the Monsoon, but I did something these last two days that are generally against my rules: I wrote a poem both days in a spurt of inspiration instead of chewing on them for a while and letting them form in my head. I also did a second general no-no — I sent them off to two different publishers without sitting on them to see if they can be improved.

Then I went out in the rain and took a walk, soaking my sandals as well as the bottoms of my jeans. A family of neighboring dogs desperately wanted to to come into my house, but they were soaking wet. Eventually I let one in, dried her off with a towel, and let her rest on our day bed. But then our cook appeared for work — neither of them were expecting the other and they both yelped — the dog ran out into the rain and that was that.

Just a little Monsoon blessing — now, time to stay outside.

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