Ashwini Bhatnagar

IT is that time of the year when the days have a rose-colour tint and the nights are fragrance-laden. The dampness of the monsoon air has dissipated and the ferocity on the sun’s brow has mellowed down to a gentle frown. Its heat doesn’t scorch any more, and, on a good day, it is almost balmy. The days are neither cold nor hot and humid. They are lukewarm and pleasant to touch. Gulabi jara has arrived to romance minds and hearts with its light flirtation.

Unlike the other seasons— summer, monsoon and winter— which break suddenly on the conscious and the body, autumn tip-toes upon us. Sultry nights, which were filled with the shrill cries of crickets, gently lull themselves into a restful mode as the season starts to change. Fireflies begin to die and frogs leave the lawns for warmer abodes. The stickiness of the day is cooled by a gentle breeze that is not pregnant with the moisture of the angry monsoon clouds. Instead, it carries a soft blow-dried wetness that is cool on touch and invigorating in feel. From a few days before the beginning of the Navratras to some days after Divali, the ambience is tinted with the colours of the marigold and rose. It is rich and full and festive. It is the time for celebration.

Autumn has a sweetness to it. That’s why it is often described as meetha-meetha mausam. It isn’t sugary sweet that sticks on like gum. Rather, it is like a light aftertaste that delectably lingers on the buds but never gets on the breath. It fills the senses and causes happy activity that doesn’t have the ring of the hectic pell-mell of life to it. In fact, autumn is a time to luxuriate. A time to be happy; a time to live.

All of us want more and more of everything. But at this time of the year, there isn’t too much of anything. And since there isn’t, it brings its own contentment. It is a state of equilibrium, a state of suspended expectation. We feel good about what we have and that’s reason enough to encounter bliss and recognise it instantly. The cotton-light haze that descends on the evenings lends an ultra soft focus on the harshness around. Harmony emerges from the shadows and makes round pegs fit into square holes. The bleakness of summer and the lushness of the monsoon merge to create a sonata. Its sound is soft and soulful, like a violin playing at a distance. It is called the autumn sonata — the music that emanates from the silence of the night and wafts across the landscape in rhythm with the shimmer of the moonlight.

Music is not the flavour of this season. The loud beats of springtime that make the body sway and the feet dance are out of character with it. Instead, low tones and a hushed feel are in tune with the mood. Nobody dances the bhangra during autumn nor does anyone beat the drum. Autumn doesn’t need to be heralded in. Rather, it gently pours itself into the cup of time and rises to the lip like a mellow matured wine. It lifts the spirit without upsetting the mood. There is no aggression in autumn. It lives and lets live; adding its bit now and again to the deliciousness of living.

The friendliness of the atmosphere makes us seek the outdoors. The day is loaded with possibilities as even the afternoon sun is bearable in its intensity. The light sparkles without dazzling and the shades are cool and welcoming. Everything around creates the need to stand and stare and let the world pass by. Or be by yourself as the golden yellow of the sun gently runs its fingers over the mind and body. It is a time for both contemplation and play.

The day then gracefully slips into an evening and as the lightly toasted earth comes under the cool gaze of the stars an overhang of a hint of mist is created. But overhead, the clear blinking skies add champagne bubbles to the ambience at twilight as the way is cleared for the rotund moon to make its appearance. The moon is the prettiest and fattest during autumn, specially on the Sharad Poornima day. You can reach for it and even hold it in your grasp.

It is not the time for passion, however. A slow waltz rather than the salsa is the sentiment of the season. It calls for mushy romance under the light of a brilliant moon instead of the fervour of a chase in sweaty daylight. It is a time for marriages and children and not steamy liaisons.

In fact, the languid cheerfulness dissolves the passions of the heart and mind into companionship and friendship. It is a time for being together, for sharing and loving gently. It is a time for family and get-togethers and for creating warmth and belonging which will extend beyond the frosty winter. It is a time for homecoming for renewal of life’s vitality. Autumn creates harmony and belonging. It is no wonder, therefore, that during this time tradition dictates the re-enactment of myths and legends that banish disharmony and emphasise the triumph of good over evil. Darkness is sought to be displaced with light and lurking shadows are scared out of the corners by bursting crackers.

Autumn begins with the Navratras which welcome the Mother Goddess into the house like a member of the family. It is, perhaps, no coincidence that the Life Force is idealised immediately after paying off the debt to the dead during the shradhas. The goddess symbolizes shakti and the victory of godliness over demonic designs. Lord Rama’s long campaign against evil Ravana too ends with the killing of the rakshasa a day after Navratras. It is time to let go and begin anew; to bury the dead and live again.

The next 20 days till Divali, therefore, have a day each for everything that is connected with well-beingness. Sharad Poornima, Karva Chauth, Dhanteras, Narkachaudas, Hoi-Asthami, Bhaiya Dooj, etc have significance to self, home and family. Prosperity is sought in everything and poverty of thought, action and belief is intended to be alleviated through prayer, fasting and feasting.

Autumn, like no other time of the year, brings loved ones together in prayer to seek richness and fulfillment. That’s why it is unique, it is so special.