Ideas tussle to come forth, jostling for my attention. But busyness keeps me on my toes to pay heed to them. Finally, when I do sit in front of the laptop, they turn frigid and decide to abandon me, in retaliation. I mull on helplessly, as my thoughts suddenly seem to have gone into hibernation. I stare at the static page and it glares back at me with a mean coldness. My fingers go numb as I make a desperate attempt to type on the frozen keys. With no choice, I wait for the inclement weather to pass, in hope that tomorrow’s sunshine will thaw the frosty barrenness from my mind’s creative corner.
Monsoon bells ring in the month of August, as the entire Indian peninsula is under a cloud cover. The country revels, as pellets of rains kiss the parched earth, providing much relief from the sweltering heat that saps all energy. Fresh organic landscapes replace the arid barren plains. The insipid leaves indulge in an emerald green makeover, insects cavort around in trilling conversations, meandering rivers swell with gushing pride, pastures hide under a lush grassy duvet, farmers send in a prayer of gratitude and romantic hearts drench in amorous reverie. Man and nature rejoice, under the magical spell of the rains.