Monsoon.
It was just another hot and lazy evening like any other after a long day at Cedar. I lay on my bed trying to banish all thought from my head, though, without any progress. Frustrated, i sat up and put on my earphones. Hopefully, an instrumental or two would help. Startled by a loud bang that very much resembled a gunshot i paused the song, and there it was again. I went out to the balcony and sure enough pregnant clouds populated the horizon, come to wage war against civilisation.
The last few weak rays of sunlight vanished as a big one took its position at the western flank. They continued to sound their war cries until they stopped and silence embraced the battlefield, the kind just before the initial act. Down below the traffic continued on as before, just a little nervous now. Many spectators like me silently pondered and observed from their own perspectives. The silence from above stretched in anticipation before a final roar tore across the sky and as archers loosed their first volley in perfect formation. The thousands of droplets accelerated in the air and splattered everywhere. Suddenly there was a buzz of movement on the streets, on-goers rushing around for cover under trees, umbrellas or just away from the open where they were the most vulnerable. Civilisation was caught unawares. However, no attempts were seemed to be made to rally forces in response. How do you reply to an assault by nature.
Being the bold spectator that i was i made for the roof. Instantly, the casualties hit my senses. The barely audible sizzling of the hot roof floor turned the atmosphere ever so slightly steamy, the tall electricity pylons crackled in pain, dust particles were rapidly penned down to the ground and this was just the start. The archers stepped back as the cavalry came on in a majestic charge. Everywhere bigger droplets hit continuously and everything was drowned. It was soothing, the continuous splatter against concrete became a natural instrumental until it was no longer continuous. The initial charge was over and the formations had broken down and everything was chaos. The wind had decided to take part. It shoved and directed the infantry onwards and everything was pelted in bursts. Windows banged, doors were slammed, trees were forced to bow down and then came the strikes of lightning. The enemy had brought catapults too.
I was about to go back down when i heard joyous laughter across the roof. The neighbours’ children danced around playing with each other. A smile began to tug on my lips. A slight movement then caught my eye. A roach. I watched it for a few seconds becoming aware of my relaxed state of mind. All the thoughts had faded away.
I realised it wasn’t a battlefield at all, there was no war, at least, not out there in the world. Often, it’s the little things that matter and we are as much capable of making those little things, things that matter, as something that is served to us. A sense of contentment settled over me as i thought of samosas and jalebees. After all it was the Monsoon season baby! My stomach rumbled enthusiastically in agreement.
