When truant clouds wreak havoc

The sun is beating down hard on a city that is sweltering and seeming more listless with each passing day.  Beads of sweat organise themselves into a millions of rivulets that run down my spine unabashed, they leave a city feeling stifled as each droplet on a million faces catch the last rays of sunshine as night falls. All I can do is helplessly gaze at a sunset sea, as the last rays fall unceremoniously into a seemingly calm sea, only to send it into a shudder of glittering shivers. I begin to curse myself for ever complaining about the monsoons, the floods, the clattering of windowpanes as the rain pelts down and shamelessly robs me of a good nights sleep.

I've always had a love-hate relationship with the monsoons, I dread the dampness, the longer hours I need to work on my artwork to make sure they dry in time. The filth that finds it way up from open drains when the city goes under, which I must add, is a promise Mumbai always manages to keep. But I also find myself each year, towards the fag end of summer, earning for the rains in an attempt to bring some respite from the harsh summer sun and relentless humidity.

A couple of weeks ago the sultry silence of summer was broken by blots of lightning and thundering clouds, as  I lay in bed listening to natures delightful lullaby I felt a dash of excitement and anticipation, the monsoons were near at last. I suddenly loved the monsoons and couldn't wait for the city to smell, feel and evolve into something less dusty and sweaty!

Every monsoon I love how the leaves on the trees turn from wilted shades of brown to brilliant greens. I love the ever changing sky filled with sometimes heavy, dark clouds about to burst and shower us with abundance and sometimes scattered with little grey clouds playing hide and seek, almost waiting in the wings to pounce on unsuspecting people below. I love making a hundred cups of tea and sipping on them as I read a book and slowly allow myself to transcend into another worlds.

I think most of all, I love the changing of seasons, it's something I look forward to, as I sit by my window trying to catch the small signs nature throws our way.

A seasons change away

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I would watch you endlessly,
Let hours wilt away,
I long for you relentlessly,
You are but a lifetimes wait,
Like a flower in bloom on a warm summers day,
You come and go as the seasons change.

Thunderstorms don't frighten me

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Thunderstorms don't frighten me.Yes I do get goosebumps and a shiver down my spine every time the skies roar, but there's also a bolt of excitement that runs through my body. I've never been more aware of nature in all its fury, it feels like nature forces us to acknowledge its presence and power. Often we get caught up in our little bubbles of everyday struggles, but during the rains and especially during thunderstorms for a brief moment in time our bubbles burst, as we stare in awe at the forces at work that are much larger and stronger than our little lives.

Thunderstorms to me, are like a 'War dance of nature' - the thunder claps, like the resounding beating of drums riling up the forces, the howling winds like war cries instilling fear of the imminent danger,
 lightning blots of electricity that shoot across the skies like arrows, are the final blow, the weapons of wrath and destruction.

As the seas churning ferociously, belching all that is unwanted and the skies unleash havoc on our plebeian existence, for me it feels cathartic as tectonic plates of change shift, giving our lives a good 'ol fashioned purge.

The gift of an ordinary day