Re: monsoon moments
My all-time favourite cartoon of R.K. Laxman is
the one in which the little man with the bewildered
look watches his wife as she greets the
dhobhi with an aarti complete with a lighted diya in one
hand and a bell in the other. The rain is pelting down
outside and in the midst of this downpour, the dhobi has
arrived with a bundle full of ironed clothes on his head.
His baffled look says it all. It also sums up, as no words
can, what monsoon means to us in India.
We are a nation that takes our rains very seriously, and
any delay on the part of the weather gods has us gazing
anxiously at the skies; the meteorologists make dire
predictions and the falling level of reservoirs and dams
is a subject for much debate and discussion. When the
monsoon clouds burst over Kerala by the 1st of June,
there is relief and triumph even in far away Rajasthan -
everyone's turn will come by and by, the smiling faces
seem to say.
In Delhi, the hot, humid months before the rains arrive
is the time when the Jamuns (also known as Java
Plums or Nerale Hannu in Kannada) ripen on the trees
that line the gracious boulevards designed by Edwin Lutyens.
Just as Washington DC has its cherry trees, New
Delhi has its Jamun trees. The load of fruit is harvested
by the fruit sellers, but a huge amount still falls onto the
pavements and crunches underfoot, staining everything
Some years ago, I was in Manipal to see about the
college admissions for our elder son. The month was
June and the monsoon was in full swing. Though we
were confined to our hotel room, with little to do except
gaze out of the window onto a rain-drenched landscape,
it was far from boring. The hotel garden was a riot of
flowers and overgrown grass, trees dripped musically
and the shining green of the leaves exuded the very
essence of life, renewal and earth. My most enduring
memory of those few days is a somewhat absurd one
but so typical of an Indian monsoon.
Beyond the low compound wall of the hotel was an
open field, a pasture for cattle. Now it had become a
lake of rain water and to my delight I saw ducks paddling
around. Late one evening just before twilight, the rain
had momentarily slowed to a fine drizzle. I saw a small
herd of buffaloes make their stately way across the field,
and straight into the deepest part of the lake. With tremendous
grunts and tail swishing they sank themselves
up to their noses and wallowed. The utter simplicity of
their enjoyment made me laugh. Who would not love
God's creatures in their innocence?
Of course the monsoons can be inconvenient, disrupt
life and create no-win situations like mosquitoes, and
damp clothes; but it is also for us a time to enjoy steaming
cups of masala chai and sizzling pakoras, a time for
psychedelic or somber black umbrellas bobbing along
on the streets. When we were kids one of the pleasures
of going to school in rain was that you could wear
your rubber chappals and the teachers didn't mind. A
squelchy squishy pleasure not to be missed!
The monsoons have been celebrated in music, dance,
painting and film: it's a time for joyous lovers to meet;
indeed, the darling of the Gopis, Lord Krishna, is said
to have been born in the season when the Jamuna river
was in spate. Many a Bollywood heroine has danced in
the rains with her hero, to wonderful lilting music. Ragas
like Megh Malhar and Mian ki Malhar are monsoon ragas,
welcoming the rains on the parched earth.
John Keats wrote in his immortal 'Ode To Autumn' of
the "Season of mist and mellow fruitfulness", capturing
in his poem of 33 lines the very essence of an English
autumn. To me, the poetry is in the monsoon itself - the
rhythms of the rain, the song of muddy waters flowing
under a culvert somewhere, the koyal that fills overcast
mornings with its sweet coos.
Let me share with you a few lines from a beautiful poem 'A Rainy Day' by
Tagore, describing a rainy day in Bengal. Who can say it better?
.the rain-water is
running in rills through the narrow lanes like a laughing
has run away from his mother to tease her..
.The sky seems to ride fast upon the madly rushing
water in the river is loud and impatient; women have
early from the Ganges with their filled pitchers..
.The road to the market is desolate, the lane to the
slippery. The wind is roaring and struggling among
branches like a wild beast tangled in a net.
June 17th 2013
- Achyut Palav <urja.calligraphy@...> wrote:<Umbrella Workshop_Mumbai.jpg>
Monsoon Special Umbrella Workshop
Paint with Colours beyond the Rainbow
Unique Calligraphy Workshop by Achyut Palav at Belapur on the 5th July 2015.
Rains… They enchant, they surprise, They delight. They have the power to charm & scare you. It can drizzle; it can pour… it can drench you with a shower or stir up a storm. Just one element of nature, yet so many forms.
So this monsoon, try to capture its numerous Avatars or take a trip down memory lane to remember all those poems, sonnets & things that remind you of rains. Achyut Palav School of Calligraphy conducts its Annual Umbrella Workshop where you can make art come alive & capture the magic of rains on Umbrellas.
This workshop promises to be an exciting event where you can do calligraphy of words, poems & nature’s ravishing beauty during the monsoons. Come enjoy the blessed union of calligraphic strokes &colors that is going to take place on 5th July 2015.
Take home rains… Take Home Art
Enquiry Timing: 10.00 am to 6.00 pm.
Venue: - G-203, Deck level, CBD Belapur Station Complex,
CBD Belapur, Navi Mumbai – 400 614.
Contact: Ankita : 022 27891517
Note: APSC will provide one umbrella per student including colors, breakfast and lunch.
Register your name before 30th June 2015… Limited Seats!!!--
Achyut Palav School of Calligraphy
28/1, Welfare Chambers, Plot No. 73,
Sector-17, Vashi, Navi Mumbai.400 705
Tel: 022- 27891517