The monsoons in India are life givers but also deadly in their unrelenting showering of millions of tons of water picked up from the Arabian Sea and the Bay of Bengal. It is a wild party for three months. A rave party which leads to life but also death and destruction. I cannot but admire the changing kaleidoscope of the skies with these passing beauties full of water like Dairy cows waiting to be milked. Nature is supreme. Nature will take over if we are not careful, example Chernobyl, humans cannot enter where nature has begun to grow forests and animals are roaming leisurely through this abandoned disaster zone. Let us nurture mother earth, please!
Sitting on my balcony watching the swirling clouds I feel like a landlubber watching a sailing ship in the distance coming into the harbour.
In India the Monsoons enter the sub continent through the southern state of Kerala and move across the western coast in the first weeks of June. Mumbai as usual gets flooded every year and Mumbaikars wade through the dirty water with typical Indian stoic savoir faire.
Meanwhile we in the north sizzle in the heat. There are no sea breezes here. The Sun heats up the earth and pavements till you can fry the proverbial egg.
As of today, that is the second of July, the clouds gather, drizzle cool down the air a bit but the Sun again boils the humid air into a sweltring cauldron. As I look out of my window I can see that it is raining but also the Sun is shining as it sets in the West. This is a stituation here in Punjab which they call a marriage of Gidar with a lomdi, that is of a Jackal with a fox, because two strange bedfellows are occupying the skies. It is raining and it is also sunny.
We will have to wait a few more days before the real might of the monsoons hits us here in Tricity Chandigarh. meanwhile the humidity ranges from 50 to 80 percent.
Looking at the clouds is my favored hobby during these Covid-19 lockdown times and I just found this quaint quote from Aristophanes-“Clouds are the patron goddesses of idle fellows.!”
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