Monsoon sky

Rumbling and thundering, the monsoons sweep into India.

Blanketing village field and city towers in a magic cloak of promise.

Bright afternoons transform into darkest night.

Cool breezes rush in to caress the fevered earth.


The first drops fall... burst ... and release the musty, sweet smell of damp earth on the heated air.


And all around is a frenzied celebration of prayers answered and hope rekindled .....

Of promises kept by the monsoon sky.

Monsoon gardening

So its raining and you don't need to water the plants anymore. Does this sound like everything you prayed for during the hot, muggy summer days?

Ever heard of too much of a good thing?

Here, it rained and stormed for days before letting up a bit now. All my plants are slowly holding up their broken and damaged stems and leaves for sympathy.

My asparagus fern which I was meticulously training over the window grill, has only got a lot of broken stems to show for all my trouble. I think it got thrown around too much in the strong gusty winds. I had to trim them off but already new spears are poking up to start afresh.

Luckily, I had already moved my dwarf convolvulus out of danger before it started storming. It was too young and had not got a firm grip on the window grill yet. The storm would have torn it to pieces. I had wanted to use it like a screen for privacy by letting it climb all over the grill. And the beautiful blue flowers would've been the bonus. Now I think I'll wait a bit before moving the pot back into its place.

The salt spray being flung up because of the strong winds, is playing havoc on everything. The ironwork is rusting, my computer has developped hiccups and is freezing, and my poor plants cant believe what's happening to them.

Here's Old Man Iron-Eater Sea. Dont be fooled by that calm exterior; the spray from those waves rise 3 storeys high after hitting the retaining wall.

Monsoon in Mumbai

The monsoon has finally whipped into Mumbai !

Rain, glorious rain is lashing the city, washing off the filth from the streets and dust from the leaves.

The fiery gul mohur petals are flying on the breeze and carpeting the streets.

Trees have got their hair washed squeaky-clean and are seducing the wind in a tempestuous salsa. Outside my window, the coconut trees are tossing their mane like a mad woman, as the wild wind tries to rip them out by the root !

All around me is the roar of the sea champing to gatecrash the party.

And I, I sit cocooned in my little home enjoying the catharsis of the refreshing monsoon after a hot, sticky, energy-sapping summer.

Waiting, for its sowing time. Time for new beginnings when the earth waits for an excuse to sprout new life in ploughed fields and discarded junk alike.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow, I will sow me some vegetables. Bottle gourds, okra, rambling beans, and more. Then I'll coax some flowers from dahlias and cosmos and zinnias, I'm sure.

But for now, I'll lean back in my comfortable chair and watch the dance of the monsoons in Mumbai.