An Ode To Monsoon

Still, monsoon arrives every year unfailingly with all her magic, soaking the asphalt-covered streets, the resonance of falling rain on tin sheds reminding one of the mellifluous notes of the Santoor and the urban poet is content in writing his name on the fogging glass facade of the airconditioned coffee shop.

Monsoon announced its arrival with stormy winds swaying the treetops, then a few scattered drops of rain created vast whirlpools on the surface of the pond and followed finally by a heavy downpour. The sister tried in vain to offer some cover to her little brother with the end of her pallu chanting childish rhymes calling upon the rain-gods to cease their outpourings.

 Accompanied by Pandit Ravi Shankar’s melodious background score the advent of monsoon has been captured forever in our minds in Satyajit Ray’s magnum opus Panther Panchali. On Ray’s centenary year I could not resist beginning with this beautiful sequence from his masterpiece.

Why only Ray, even Kalidasa forgot all about emperors, queens, and princesses and wrote about a plebeian – an exiled Yaksha pining for his beloved and convincing a passing cloud to carry back his message of love. The first day of the month of Ashada has been immortalised in Meghdut, thelyrical work of the great poet. But why do rains and romance have such an age-old bonding? What is it in the soothing sound of falling rain that is often music to our ears but is also capable of raising a maelstrom of emotions in our hearts? Why is monsoon the favourite season of the shayars and songwriters from the past to the poet of today? Why do the stars of the silver screen romance their lady love in the pouring rain? While I would probably look like a drenched rat, but the sight of Raj Kapoor and Nargis acknowledging their love, singing “Pyar Hua Ikraar Hua” and sharing an umbrella, gives you a glimpse of the true monsoon vibes. But I somehow associate myself more with a smiling Mousumi Chatterjee walking or more precisely half running to keep pace with the long strides of Amitabh Bachchan (I understand the plight of those married to tall men) to the score of “Rimjhim Gire Sawan.” The city traffic, the rains, and the seashore – all make this iconic song a true celebration of a rain-drenched Bombay. Every songwriter worth his salt has a “Sawan” song under his belt or as Gulzar famously puts it, “Sawan Ke Kucch Bheege Bheege Din Rakhe Hain,” – set aside as their more prized works. However, “O Sajna Barkha Bahar Ayi” by Shailendra and set beautifully to music by the great Salil Chowdhury remains a personal favourite.    

There may be scores of monsoon songs in our playlists but those of us used to urban India know that the rains bring only pain. The beauty of a rain-drenched city often gets overlooked when confronted with waterlogged streets, Houdini-like disappearing acts pulled off by autorickshaws and cab drivers, power cuts, and seasonal diseases like dengue. The sky draped in various shades of grey, black, and white and the dusty roadside trees preening with their shiny green foliage present a delightful picture but the moment you look down at ugly potholes and badly patched roads your sizzling chemistry with the monsoon disappears with a poof. 

Still, monsoon arrives every year unfailingly with all her magic, soaking the asphalt-covered streets, the resonance of falling rain on tin sheds reminding one of the mellifluous notes of the Santoor and the urban poet is content in writing his name on the fogging glass facade of the airconditioned coffee shop. The meteorological depression and that of the mind often become one in the pitter-patter of falling raindrops.  


By Anindita Chowdhury

Anindita Chowdhury is a special correspondent of the English daily, The Statesman. She is based in Hyderabad. Apart from reporting, she writes short stories and essays with special focus on history, particularly the social and cultural aspects of the bygone era. She can be contacted at aninditasmail@gmail.com

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