THE RAINS...

Photo credit: www.traveldglobe.com
Memory tag: When the hills and plains break forth before you into rain song in Shillong Meghalaya.

The rain in Spain, we are told, stays mainly in the plain, not so in Meghalaya! The hills and plains break forth before you into rain song, especially in the monsoons! The rain can be the gentle chit chat that only the hills seem to have all day long. Or it could a furious tongue lashing that turns any protective umbrella topsy turvy! Baskets of wild mushrooms, corn being roasted over open burners, pineapples being tossed out from jeep trailers, assorted umbrellas jostling for space as we hurry to our daily bread! They can go up anytime the unexpected comes down, even in this delayed monsoon. Inclement weather or bright sunshine Shillongites refuse to be slipshod. They seem to be able to go to war in delicate strappy footwear! Any material can be transformed and drawn out into footwear remixes for this elegant bipedal. Even caterpillars of every size and denomination seem to put their best foot forward as they crawl among grass dotted with purple, yellow and white flowers. The make the most of this green ‘hay’ before weaving their silken cocoons around themselves, to sleep, perchance to dream……. To be or not to be a butterfly? Does it have a choice? Can it make a choice? Does it need to make a choice to appease a personal or fashion sensex? What if it was scared of flying and decided to remain a caterpillar? The caterpillar smokes a hookah and thoughtfully looks at Alice in Wonderland!

Often, when the clouds clear, the hills are drenched in sparkling sunshine! They seem fresh, scrubbed, seemingly washed of the dust of ages! As evening darkens into night , a scarab shaped waning moon sails a cloudy sea. And when the clouds part, the flaring Scorpio constellation dominates the early night! Time to be with friends and family, time to shed work and come home. To the warmth of green cardamom flavored tea and spicy crunchables dunked in hot green mint chutney and rounded off with sweet nothings or warm, freshly made rosogollas! Even the bulbuls seem to have so much to say as they babble among the pines. It’s odd how the old pines look as if they have come out of a Chinese painting! Waiting for the traffic to clear near the High courts on the secretariat side or on the road to Lachumere from Dhankheti point old pines add dignity and beauty! Their jigsaw puzzle bark, branches bent at ikebana angles with their needles glistening with raindrops are stately and beautiful! In our gardens, there is a succession of lilies and then its begonia time! A must check out for me is a single room tin hut on Highway 44 before the road branches off towards Shillong Peak. It offers one a traffic stopping display of begonia on its rusty walls. In these hills begonia peek out cheekily from under rocks and crevices, they don’t wait to be cultivated. Any gardener worth his salt must have some begonia. Bulbs are stocked, bought, haggled over. Merits and demerits of varieties are discussed with vendors who have become acquaintances. Some of them are ardent gardeners and time slips by before you realize you have spent time on talking about begonias and you apologetically rush out into the everyday traffic! There is always so much left to do. ‘A poor life this, if full of care, We have no time to stand and stare’, as the hills are wrapped in mist or drenched in sunshine or washed clean in rain! My mother brought home the romance of poetry and I opened her hand written folio of favorite poems and read these lines from Tagore…

When my days are done, my leave taking
hushed in a final silence,
my voice will linger in the autumn light
and rain -laden clouds
with the message that we had met.