Why the Monsoon has a face strange?

 Unseen to the lovers of rain, so strange,

With its diffident drops, these days,

Yes, the scanty Monsoon drops, now a days.

Nostalgic, how long, have I to wait,

To hear,  the usual  amourous croaking of the frogs, wet,

In rain, inviting the voluptuous buxom she – frog,

For a  passionate, blithesome union of frogs.

How long have I to wait for the showers

The,  thrilling patter on the roof of showers,

Yes, the  nature’s exquisite rhythm of showers

Unique only to the Monsoon showers.

How long have I to wait?

For the seasonal gorgeous dance feat?

Of the peacock spreading its iridescent tail?

As if yet another rainbow has burst on earth, awhile

How long have I to wait?

To see the earth glossy wet?

To see the bubbling puddles in rain?

And  the ditches  frothy, rushing in rain?

How long have I to wait,

For the luxuriant lush green, meadows, wait

The  blades of grass embellished with  iridescent drops,

Jewels are they, the glossy, vibrant, rain drops.

How long,  have I to wait with hopes

Like a Hornbill, for the celestial drops?

To splash down on the  skin parched, with drops,

After drops – the all elusive heavenly drops.

To wallow in those fresh,soothing,

Cool droplets  pouring down, so smoothing,

I  wait and wait  and wait

For that  rare, specious soothing effect, I still wait

Hopes, in dizzy heights, I wait,

For that prickly drops of water, I wait,

That fills the summer – dry pools with water

Cool, fresh, for me, to splash and spatter.

How long have I  to wait,

For that nature’s  rare phenomenon, wait

Yes, the Monsoon waters sudden heavy fall,

Which, cloud burst, everyone  calls.

Nay! the clouds are, the sky’s heavenly bosom,

Rain, the heavenly milk that fill to satiety the  bosom,

Which  ,gushes out, the heavenly milk  for the earth,

To wet  and nourish, the parched throat of the earth.

How long have I to wait

To see the Monsoon sky in wait,

For the  diminutive rain birds date

With the clouds merrily in wait.

Why  is the Monsoon’s abstinence?

Reluctant to make its  regular, presence,

Is a mystery,

Never before in history.

One fails to know, the reason

For the scanty Monsoon season,

That  still whets the hopes

Of the poor farmers’ wet hopes.

Still they hope, this year a good crop,

For it’s their life’s only prop.

But  , the Indian Agriculture’s boon,

Is  always a gamble in the Monsoon.

 

                                                                ~ Baby Kattackal

                                                                        Muvattupuzha, India