Rain-kissed Earth

It is pouring in Parasuram’s land, Kerala; pouring to the beat of temple music, kathakali and folklore. Yes, rain does not diminish the artistic sensibilities of the people of God’s Own Country; on the contrary, rain complements the festivities. When the rain Gods magnanimously lavish all their attention on this land, she, like a love-sick bride waiting to be bathed by the first showers, opens up in all her splendour to her amorous lover. After the rain touches her beautiful surfaces, she blooms and glows in her multi-coloured hues. Her joy can be palpably seen and felt in the awesome green mountains, the overflowing lakes, the lush paddy fields and in the wet smiling faces of the people.

I am reminded of the excitement of waking up early on a rainy day and going to the temple with hair dripping from a wash and reveling in the surreal charm of the reflection of the lamps on the wet gleaming black stones of the temple. It is truly a fairy-tale sight, straight out of the heavens.

Rains usher in memories of childhood: of gleefully getting wet and wetting others, of bathing in the family pond in the midst of non-stop showers, of snuggling to the warm bosom of my mother to escape the cold, of listening to my grandmother recite stories and sing devotional songs to keep her grandchildren indoors, of creating a ruckus with my cousins, of savouring the hot piping delicacies made in the family kitchen and most of all; of moments lived with gay abandon when life was a rain-filled, joy-filled and laughter-filled existence.