So… Monsoon broke 3 days prior to schedule in Kerala… We are not complaining here in Karnataka. As they say…. Kuthralathula Idi Idichaa…Coimbatorila….ennamo aagumaam( If there is thunder in Kuthraalam…something will happen in coimbatore…I forgot what that something is…Tams please help!) The day it broke in Kerala, Bangalore also got very heavy showers, bringing down mercury mercifully…Here, Appa kept glancing at the temperature indicator and clicking his tongue disapprovingly commenting that it is scandalous that Bhadravathi is still like furnace! And then, after two more days of scorching heat, the heavens came down in a rush the other day, while we were just finishing off the lunch.

The twins ran to the terrace the save the clothes…the rest of the family, to close windows at vulnerable places… And then there was the blissful sound of rain lashing against glass, leaves sighing in ecstasy and trees sashaying in welcome. It poured for about 3 hours, like the virago in the ‘Vattara’ throwing a tantrum…Then it went away, leaving the leaves in dripping tears! A twin and I lazily watched as a couple of frogs were dancing like Gene Kelly, though they did not yet start singing in the rain! We watched as a wet and bedraggled sparrow fritted out of its shelter, we inhaled that clean heavenly air washed of all the suspended dirt and heat! The Earth seemed to have got a new lease for life. Appa, though relieved that the rains had finally come, was still upset. Bhadravathi is a part of Malanadu, he said. It should have rained first here… In olden days we used to get rains in April which would well continue till August. It is because of deforestation and global warming…

Of course, I don’t know about the Bhadravathi of his childhood days. It used to called Benkipura, named after the forest fires that was frequent in these parts. Wild animals and non-stop rain used to be the hallmark of the place. But I do remember what it was like 24 years back, when I used to visit as a new bride. It used to rainnnnnnnnn!

One recurring memory is the smell of eucalyptus in the wet air, thanks to the sentinel trees that lined both the sides of the road near our house. Those gigantic eucalyptus trees were felled a decade back, now… the smell from the public urinal strategically placed (?) at the square, pervades the atmosphere now a days.

We normally vacation in India  during the months of July and August, getting a good dose of the Monsoons. We would be literally ‘grounded’ by the rains….but the again, who wants to go out while vacationing? Vacation time is strictly home time….family time…and watching rain drenched shades of green is a favourite pastime after the scorching heat and concrete landscapes of Sharjah.

Rains become a nuisance after the euphoria of the initial weeks. For many years, Appa used to battle with seepage and resulting wet patches on the ceiling… Our terrace has layers and layers of weatherproofing material pasted on it! Now a days, the annual damage is considerably less… though I secretly feel that it is due to the decrease in the annual rains! Amma will soon start fretting about the damp clothes especially with so many of us vacationing at the same time. She likes everything shipshape and her chores are all fine examples of perfect time management. She hates anything upsetting her routine! But we… we just relax and get rejuvenated in this weather.

Afternoon showers are the ideal rains…. They bring out the urge to make pakodas or ‘mysore bondas’ with the noon tea. Amma just waits for an excuse to fill people with food… and if anyone commented on the right combination of rainy noon and hot tea and pakodas…she would scurry into the kitchen to prepare it.

When I glance out of the window as I type this, I can see the Karuveppilai and the guava trees nodding their heads in avuncular manner…I can hear the solitary koyal’s symphony. In a couple of days, schools will reopen, and streams of kids will splash their way to a new academic year…some looking like hunchbacks with  oversized raincoats covering them and the haversacks filled with books, some toting umbrellas and some unfortunate ones hugging the plastic covers sheltering their books , enjoying the firsthand experience of walking in the rain. Young girls will hurriedly move sideways to avoid the squirting muddy water from the tyres of vehicles. In Kerala, men would start wearing ‘double deckers’, folding their dhothi to avoid dirtying it.

One memory of Monsoon showers is the traditional harbinger of rains… The ‘ kodai reapairman’…or the umbrella mender..an extinct species as I hardly see any around.

 Once done, he’d try to bargain again on his wages but rarely would he succeed in getting more than what was agreed upon, prior to mending. He’d leave nodding his head when he’d be told his services would always be sought. Like many other ‘rural ‘artisans even the umbrella repairman has vanished today!

Talking of umbrellas, today I see a wide and exotic variety of them in the market. They come in bright shades, with designs on them, in very sleek and handy models. When we were kids we used to get two types large ones with a bent handle ( which locals in Kerala would hook behind them on the collar of their shirts) and the medium sized ones generally sported by ladies and kids. I remember refusing to go to college as it was raining cats and dogs and there was no spare umbrella at home. My dad asked me to use his imported one…I refused as it had this bent handle. I’d be ragged by the boys for carrying a gents’ umbrella. The moment he heard the reason, he became adamant. He forced me to swallow my ‘false pride’ and take it to the college. I was so scared of him that I used it till I neared my college, and then I shut it and walked in the rain. When someone asked me why I didn’t use the umbrella, I just shrugged! An adult would not understand the sentiments of the teenager, I had told myself. Two dozen years later, now.. I smile in nostalgia when I recall those days.

Monsoon days…days of hot pepper rasam, of ‘kadachakka moLagooshyam’ ( spicy preparation with breadfruit and pepper) of ‘moLaga bajji’, of ginger tea, of old Lata Mangeshkar songs, of games of rummy… Ahhh!   As I watch the downpour my heart hums the  Gene Kelly number.

I'm singing in the rain
Just singing in the rain
What a glorious feelin'
I'm happy again
I'm laughing at clouds
So dark up above
The sun's in my heart
And I'm ready for love
Let the stormy clouds chase
Everyone from the place
Come on with the rain
I've a smile on my face
I walk down the lane
With a happy refrain
Just singin',
Singin' in the rain