Golden Day

       I saw a rare phenomenon this morning. The ambient light was golden, as I woke up in the cowboy movie The Makanieze Gold. I could not hold myself in and rushed out. Every thing was gold and the rest had subtle layer of gold. I was mesmerised. It had rained heavily in the night as the monsoons had set in and everything around carried the freshness. The rain had kept me indoors for some time, but today it could not restrict me from my morning walk.
       The smell was seductive of a beautiful damsel, just out from the shower. She wore a fresh green gown and the strands wet with tiny droplets still clinging on the tresses. She had a beautiful glow and a contagious freshness which energised me to go further.
      The monsoon streams had washed away the layer of dust and everything shone like new. The streams washed away all the sins thrown in by the careless. At places, it was successful to carry it to the drain and at some places the sins laid exposed. Except these small patches, everything looked neat and fresh, “ kya kare Chand pe bhi Daag hote hain”.
      Bettles, bees, centipedes and numerous small insects of different colour, texture swarmed the environment, bringing in a lot of birds ever eager to catch a prey for the new borns. The stalks with their long wiry legs, laid ambushes by standing patiently in the small water puddles. The frogs were on a romantic trip, croaking at top of their voice and mating as if theres no tomorrow. Though the frogs were the loudest but the birds had their own music, chirping endlessly in different tunes, singing endlessly the various notes.
     The mangoes were ripe and yellow and the school children were trying their best to have a go at them without spoiling their uniforms. An old man was collecting the ripe mangoes fallen of the tree. The ploughed feilds had turned fresh green and the mood was upbeat of the village. It had brought in new life and more importantly solace and relief from the extremely hot summers. In eighties, when as a chid, I used to visit my village and there was not water pipeline carrying water to the houses, the ladies used to carry pitchers of water on their head. During the late summers, some of the wells used to dry up and the distance used to increase for the water carriers. My yet to be married aunts nearly spent their days ferrying water from the far of wells.
      May be thats why monsoon is so awaited in our country. It brings in life. It brings in relief. It brings in joy. Thats why the rain gods are to be pleased with prayers and "yagnas" and “hawans". yes a golden day.