monsoon

The morning was hot and humid. The trees stood tall in attention without even a leaf moving. The clouds were crowding in and finding space for themselves. It was still, as if the morning wind had forgotten to wake up and still in the bed. The morning walk was loosing its pleasure as slowly the sweat was turning into streams and dampening the crispness of the fresh clothes. It felt heavy for the legs and worse was the mind, too difficult to drag.
 The summers were at its peak and monsoons were round the corner. The news were broadcasting the monsoons arrival in the southern India and one could draw freshness seeing the video footages of people walking through the water logged streets, ladies lift up the saris and the long skirts a bit above the ground to keep them dry. The weather department was doing all the calculations and announcing the progress of the arrival of monsoon, as if he was in the railways prior to this job. These news kept every one calm and kept their hopes alive. Monsoons is the life line of India. By this time of the year when the temperatures run about 45 degrees, the earth is baked like an owen, the streams vanished, lakes shrunk to ponds, the grass dried and only the brown carcasses on the hardened ground reminded of their existence. Every one was thirsty and with cracked skin and chaffed lips looked up to the lord as if praying for mercy, praying for rain.
Their prayers were answered. Something moved in the still atmosphere. A puff of wind, slowly and gradually it picked up speed, as if the sleeping giant suddenly remembered his duty and was hurrying up with blaring music, shaking up everything in his way. The trees, initially were slow to the beat, but soon they were also part of the hard rock, rocking and swaying effortlessly, high on the NASHA. Light thunders sounded like the drumbeats in the backdrop.
The first showers were just downed in no time by the thirsty earth and giving out that pleasant aroma, the sweet smell of the earth. The showers continued as the soil gulped it effortlessly. The trees wasted no time to get drenched and wash off the dust of the leaves. The grass stood up from the death bed and started breathing.The birds on getting wet were trying to dry off the extra water from their feathers. The temperatures dropped and it brought smiles to one and all. May be thats why we all await the monsoon.