Monsoon is Here

So finally it is here – the monsoon decided its time to pay a visit. Notice how no longer its “she” but “it”! Yes, monsoon the way I knew is dead – yet decides to come back – hence the neuter status of “it”. Yes I still look and sigh at the dark clouds, I still feel the droplets on my face, I still have goose bumps walking on rain soaked dark evenings; but they all glide off the thickened skin. I still am the cloud filling the ether but the “Winds of Amazonia” no longer whistle its way through. Droplets evaporated from the parched forehead – yet cloud decides to return to Cherapunji.

During the latest roller-coaster ride, first got introduced to the charlatan world of anti-depressants, shrinks and ever approaching point of no-return, and then thanks to the god
sent Virgo – clawed back my way into terra firma. Life is indeed dramatic than any fiction. So many characters encountered in these last couple of years – each having a story of their own – stranger than any best-seller in the market.  

Sometime back read the account of a blogger – her adventure on matrimonial alliances, and I smiled at my own and thanked her luck that she didn’t venture beyond the obvious.  Myriads of shades – bright white to all possible grays, blacks as well as kaleidoscopic that shames the rainbow itself; so many of them that if I were a student of psychology, I would have filled a library and added at least five path breaking research to my name.

But here I am, still surviving the onslaught, smiling at all those who still keep on trying to
shoot, not knowing that the heart no longer exist – at least not the way it used to be.  They have done their best, with all the weapons handed over to them by myself, yet I refused to die. May be I need to check the color of my throat to see if it has turned blue! Time changes the perspectives; some loose shine – while some shines brighter than ever before; and I keep moving from evening to morning like the tireless Mercury.

So monsoon is back, to water the garden; little shoots will emerge once again – the memories will keep on resonating, sometime to shake – sometime to spur, and life will keep smiling back at all those who missed the chance to board the bus. I know all those departed will have their own consolation in belief of avengeance, yet I only smile back; relieved to note that after all I have not met n lost my soul mate. Worshipers of Loki can try their best to deceive, forgetting that one cannot imprison a soul. Phoenix? Horus? Or is it just “Megh”? The river of time keep flowing – universe watches  – while the obscure farmer from the sleepy village looks up at the rain clouds, smiles, puts his tiller on his shoulder and starts walking to his farm. Lots of work left to do!