This Above all
Joys of the monsoon
KHUSHWANT SINGH

Soon after Holi this year the rains began and continued through May, June and July. They robbed us of many cherished memories of the spectacular advent of saavan, the season of the monsoon. After a short spring ending with the fiery blossoms of palas, followed by gulmohars and amaltas, came Baisakhi on April 13 with the sun’s scorching heat and hot winds. It was a foolish man who ventured out and risked getting a heat or sunstroke. Even those who stayed indoors were not spared the prickly heat around their necks.

The inferno seemed endless and was broken only by dust storms and invasions by an army of locusts descending from the skies to nibble up all the greenery of trees and bushes. The only birds you heard in the long pre-monsoon afternoons were koels calling from their leafy hideouts and hawk-cuckoos (papeehas) from remote distances. Then suddenly you heard the wailing cry of the megh-papeeha, the monsoon bird, the harbinger of the season of rains.

IN LOVE WITH THE RAIN: Holidaymakers are not put off by the surprise showers. — A Tribune photograph

Your spirits lifted; succour was at hand, around the corner. And sure as ever, the next afternoon the grey sky turned black with mountains of rain clouds rolling across, announcing their arrival with flashes of lightening, followed by a thunder that shook the earth. First, a few drops fell on the parched earth. It gave thanks by emitting a heavenly fragrance. Then it began to pour. People ran out with voices of joy. The rain came down in torrents. As the night fell, it was filled with the croaking of frogs; trees and bushes were lit by up fireflies (jugnoos), twinkling between the branches.

Out of nowhere came moths to hover around every exposed light to live their brief lives before they die in heaps. Film songs, sung by Lata Mangeshkar, came to mind. O Sajanna, barkha bahaar aayee, jal ke phuar laayee (Oh, sweetheart, the season of rains has come, bringing showers of rain); and the duet, Saavan kaa maheena, pavan karey sore, jiyara rey jhoome aise, jaisey ban ma naachey more ( It is the month of saavan; the sound of wind fills the air; my heart rejoices and dances as in the woods dance peacocks).

You did not have to go the woods to see their ballet. They performed the dance in city parks and gardens. Tails with hundreds of green-blue eyes spread out like fans, lower wings throbbing with passion, they strutted around seemingly unresponsive drab-looking peahens. Having won its mate, the male let down its tail, raised its neck and let out a triumphant cry, paon paon. It was time for girls to go to swings, for boys to fly kites. It was India’s best month for celebrations because more than the other 11 months, it revived hopes of a good harvest of rice and maize. It was a celebration of the renewal of life.

Prodigy

I have noticed a certain pattern in the phenomenon of child prodigies. Most of them are in the fields of mathematics, music and poetry. And most manifest their prowess in these fields is in the early years of adolescence. To excel is in their genes. Those who have poetry in their souls start playing with rhymed words in their early years. Some incident, like a tragedy, in their families or an affliction triggers off the muse and they produce the best they have in them.

A recent chance-discovery is 14-year-old Janhavi Malhotra of St Kabir Public School of Chandigarh. She is the only child of her parents. She is stricken with cancer. Her collection of poems, Aloft on wings of grit, illustrated by Jaspreet Kaur (Little Magic Words) was launched in Chandigarh a few days ago. Her poems are remarkable in their brevity, perception of realities of life and sensitivity to the music of words. I adduce a few examples:

These lines were written last year when symptoms of the disease afflicting her manifested themselves:

I wish Janhavi speedy recovery and a long, creative
happy life.

Leave application

My wife is ill. As there is no other husband in the family to look after her, kindly grant me leave for one day.

(Contributed by J.P. Singh Kaka, Bhopal)

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