Do you love the smell of the first rain? Do you like to sit in a local bus with the shutters up and the droplets of rain in your face? Do you find yourself smiling when your jeans are soaked below the knees? Do you enjoy jumping in puddles? Do you hold that everything becomes “clean” with the first of the monsoon rains? Do you find yourself glancing expectantly at the western horizon, by the end of may, looking for signs of rainclouds?
Are you finding yourself emotionally attached to a weather phenomenon??
Well, it’s time for you to rejoice! The monsoon is here again (here being kerala, of course)!!!

There’s no doubt that people all over india love the monsoon – but we in kerala believe we own the monsoon. we get the first and best share. and it is true, after all, that people in other parts of the country wait for the rains and then complaint about the HEAVY DOWNPOURs after 3 days of minor drizzling and tickling winds. Yea, the rest of india doesn’t deserve to have the monsoon at all! They won’t be able to handle 3 to 4 months of REAL torrential rains. Unlike us, we wait for it and relish it. We take it further too. for, by the end of may, people here smell the air expectantly and make predictions like “It’s going to rain from tomorrow, i can smell it in the distance…..” in a tone of profound wisdom and with a sagacious expression on their features.
(my father made this exact statement two days ago, incidentally. in this case, he was right – the monsoons arrived in kochi the next day………

anyway, my point with this post is………that
-I LOVE THE RAINS!
-I LOVE KERALA! and
-THE RAINS ARE HERE IN KERALA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
-yaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

PS::: I have found the most WONDERFUL web album featuring photos of the monsoon in kerala. Click here to check it out.

theres a breeze that blows around here. you can feel it when you stand at the beach in fortkochi, just after the sun has set. its not chilly, its not warm. its not too gentle and not too strong. for me, its just right. it brings with it the sweet smell of the sea and the faint spray of the surf. bearing the smell of salted peanuts, roasted in sand. of old and mighty manila tamarinds.

the same breeze blew here in my childhood. it makes me touch my knee, instinctively. reaching for the place i’d scraped it again. but my knee is free from scars. i dont fall down so much anymore. i get flashing images of hours, long gone, that we spent playing in the sand and surf. making beleive, making fun, making memories. memories that would never go neglected, as long as i can feel this breeze.

the breeze that blew on me this evening was that same breeze from my childhood. as long as this breeze blows, my home this shall be.