The monsoons have arrived in Bangalore, India
We rush to the windows in the northern side of the flat as the rain seems to be battering in from there. Sliding the windows closed with a hard click we stand back and watch the huge rain drops batter the glass angrily wanting to get in and wet the wooden floors. Its a disaster to allow the rain in on those floors as the wood will lift.
We stand and watch the water pour down and along with it the flowers from the tamarind trees and the over ripe tamarind. If I have the energy I wait for the rain to stop, pick up a bowl and go down to collect the tamarind. It's ripe, its fresh, its clean and perfect for the tamarind sauce which I love to make and keep in jars in the fridge.
The wind is strong and the trees are bending low with its strength. I am afraid the Christmas tree will damage the fitted windows to one side of the building. The tamarind branches whack the kitchen window mesh, but I dont have the heart to cut back the branch. It is so soothing and calming to have the branches within touching distance.
We look out at the garden in the neighbours house through the trickel of rain down the glass of the windows. Everything is bursting with energy and freshness with the rain. But their dog howls its displeasure at being kept chained away from the rain.
At night the froggie chorus starts up as soon as its sundown by 8pm. I love their symphony which is so melodius to our ears .Croak croak goes the deep big Bull frog and in a more continuous croak goes the pop eyed toad. The littler frogs go ribbit, ribbit on a high note and all the sounds amazingly blend together and help me go off to sleep.
The coconut trees are getting dangerous in the rain as well so the coconut picker arrives to clean and harvest the nuts from two trees. He asks for Rs 2000 which is steep, but we agree as the nuts could fall in the rain and wind and hurt someone greviously. A hundred nuts are harvested and divided among the siblings and some kept aside for the help in the building.
As I write this the Cuckoo with it's scary red eyes calls out desperately from the tamarind trees. I like to imagine it is calling for the rain, but its call is just echoed by another cuckoo in the neighbours tree. They can be very annoying -- cuckoos, screaming out from 5am in the morning, but I shoo it away and go back to sleep.
The rainy, monsoon season is the best time of the year when flora and fauna seem to come alive with the rain. The garden is fresh and washed clean, the grass springs out of the earth making work for the maali to keep short and even the compost pit rots faster than it does in the dry season as the rain hastens the spoilage.
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