As children, we sang in chorus as we frolicked in the downpour:
“Thank you, monsoon dear Come again every year!”
About 70 monsoons later, the thrill remains intact though, being away, I missed most of them; or, perhaps, I love it all the more because I missed them a lot. Expectation rises as the appointed day draws nearer — June 1. There is absolute stillness in the air; even the hills and the sea stop breathing. Clouds turn dark and get stratified as steps leading to the top of the sky.
And when it breaks it is real fury. Thunder and lightning accompany it on its mighty arrival on the shoulders of terrible winds. A frightening roar announces its approach. Rain comes pelting and in a little while there is water everywhere. No one complains much about the havoc done as the benevolence inherent in the august arrival is well known for ages.
Romantic poets of yore have painted the picture of mighty clouds coming to wed the mountains and both shedding tears of joy. Recently, perhaps after the mechanism behind the physical development was better known, some others have called it a special gift the mother, the sea, sends to her latest and therefore dearest offspring, the land of Kerala, through messengers of clouds.
Seen whichever way, the monsoon makes Kerala what it has been. Even the mindset of the average Keralite — the internal strength, the initial showmanship at introduction that may even hurt, the giving attitude, the compassion and the care for all — are qualities traceable to the monsoon. That which comes shouting, roaring and uprooting soon turns as soft as a lullaby!
Story goes that once when the Maharaja of Travancore was told by his advisers that the foreigners were taking away everything valuable in the land. He consoled them, “Let them. I am sure they can’t rob us of the south-west monsoon which I am sure will help us have everything back in real time.” While cutting down trees indiscriminately and denuding hills, it is not adequately remembered how it affects the monsoon that nourishes, cleans, sustains and rejuvenates the land. If spices produced here, why, all agricultural products for that matter, have a unique flavour and taste, it is because of the quality of rain in association with the contents of the soil.
One may say, rainwater is all the same anywhere; but it is not. Just try the taste of it and feel the difference. A few years back a photographer from France, a friend, was kind enough to accept my hospitality during the onslaught of the monsoon. He did not believe me when I said the rainwater obtained at the arrival of the monsoon here tastes different. But after taking a handful while enjoying the rain out in the open, he came running to report that it was delicious!
In terms of meteorology, the monsoon in Kerala is produced by a fortunate confluence of many factors like ocean currents, air-mass movements, atmospheric pressure differences, temperature variations and so on in conjunction with the topography of the narrow strip of slanting land and mountains bordering it on the east at a certain height and shape. Any minor variation in any of these in terms of time and space can undermine it partially or even fully. It does not matter how high the water level in Mullaperiyar is decided by us to reach; if the monsoon fails, thirst for all is the result. So, isn’t it high time all of us joined hands to sustain the ecosystem and thank the kindness and generosity of Nature for her keen interest in keeping everything in proper order to maintain us fed and hydrated?
C. Radhakrishnan is a scientist, a film director, winner of National Sahitya Akademi award, and has authored more than 75 books
