 |
Give plume shaped purple flowers,
of tiny thread like texture. |
Back to the plains
(Patiala) for a short visit for some urgent jobs. The experience is like
stepping into a cauldron of heat and humidity and having sweaty baths during
power cuts. Just a couple of miserly rain spells here, as if the area is out of
favour of the weather Gods. No option other than remaining closeted in
an air conditioned room to avoid the stifling and still atmosphere. If there is
semblance of wind movement it is hot and cagey. The roads are empty of people
and going for a walk means bouts of perspiration. Hope there’ll be more rains
to enable the farmers to transplant paddy and people to breathe easily.
 |
Such flowery plants're thriving
at Kumarhatt |
Traditionally
the period between middle of July to middle of August ( Sawan In the Bikramy
calendar ) symbolizes celebrations, romance, longing, special cuisine and joy
of togetherness, when newly married girls visit their myka (parents’ home) to
share some blissful moments and secrets of married life with their yet to be
married friends. They enjoy swing rides, make merry, while cool and sensuously
moist breeze, post rain revitalizes mind and body after the scorching heat of
June.
 |
A small mound covered with
sundry verdure at kumarha |
But things have changed and only nostalgia brings back those precious
memories. The mad pace of modern life style in urban as well as rural space
has robbed us of the pure pleasure of the festivals associated with changing
seasons. Now we only see images of ‘Teej’
being celebrated formally at girls’ colleges or at some elitist Ladies formal
functions. The community level convergence for participation and merriment have
long been forgotten.
To cap it
all nature also plays spoil sport as the deficient monsoon rains have caused
misery and have rewritten all the statistics about the revival of India’s
economy.
******
 |
| My Tulsi plant |
Once again
I’m back in the lap of shivalik hills (Kumarhatti). Here it rains almost every
day and that has caused landslides and few inadequately laid out dwellings on upper
slopes have been washed away. The paradoxes of nature are here to stay while
they poke us to mull over some do-able issues.
The hill
landscape is carpeted green once again and people’ve heaved a sigh of intense
reprieve from the extended dry spell.
