A melody plays in the background as the earth embraces yet another monsoon shower. Lush green paddy fields outside my window turn a shade happier with droplets of water clinging on to the greens of the paddy. A village road cuts through the fields, longing for someone to brave the rains and provide her some much needed company. Coconut trees swaying with the wind in distance make a perfect addition to this view that has my heart since last year, when I first witnessed the Goan Monsoon.
The yellow colored house that I’ve made home provides shelter to many a creatures that come alive during the rainy season. It seems like they’re doing a daily shift job of keeping me company, with different creatures becoming active during different times of the day. Mornings begin with blissful birdsong that’s a constant reminder of how immensely lucky I feel to be living amidst nature. A morning walk to the beach is what I promise myself each night. Most mornings I break that promise as the rain-gods don’t permit… but, when they do, it’s a gorgeous sight waiting outside. Soon, the ‘poee’ guy comes ringing, selling simple local delicacies that make for a hearty breakfast.
Most of my days are spent lounging around the ‘balcao’ admiring the nature’s canvas that lies in front. As the day progresses , we welcome visitors that include various species of butterflies , moths, bumble bees and other insects I won’t be able to name. By noon, some buffaloes line up at the nearby swamp to enjoy a happy meal and what seems to be a super relaxing mud-bath. As my work-day progresses, I stare at them with envy, craving for something similar. By lunch time, a lone kingfisher comes out for it’s daily catch and perches itself on a piece of wood that is lazily lying near the make-shift fence of the field. Various curious cats and dogs roam around , looking for friendly visitors to pet them… though I maintain a graceful distance.
The day progresses with multiple rounds of rain showers with scattered breaks that sometimes even have the sun peeping through the clouds. These breaks don’t last long though, and are quite deceptive. Goan Monsoon is a drama queen, and it splashes the sky with a thousand shades of grey. The sea roaring in distance adds to the drama, and makes for a surround-sound experience. Winds gushing at top speeds add to the melody, with coconut trees swaying as if dancing to popular Konkani songs.
It takes a lot of grit and self control to not be influenced by the theatrics that are going on outside and concentrate on what’s going on at work. Sometimes, I give in and I blame the butterflies or the birds for it. Sometimes I pass on the blame to the hibiscus bush that is laden with bright red giant flowers, with raindrops adorning the blooms like a strand of pearls in a necklace. Rest of the times, I blame it to the rain-gods.
Most evening skies are grey with a bout of yellow that is barely noticeable. A steaming cup of adrak-chai for a sundowner becomes even more flavorful when sipped in the balcony watching this monsoon drama unfold in the skies above. Or else, a short walk to the nearby rustic eatery for some chai-pakodas is a good enough break from the screens. Once the raincoat is on, I am transformed into an eleven year old splashing though puddles and having the time of her life. My mind often wanders to another era when waterlogged lanes often became a playground with colorful paper boats and I realize that it is now, after ages , that I am enjoying the monsoon again. A monsoon that is free of traffic snarls , free of the hassles of waterlogged low lying roads and the troubles of reaching late, wherever you go.
It is here that I fell in love with the rain again, and I will forever be indebted to Goa for that ( and much more) Goa is at it’s prettiest best this time of the year, openly embracing the lone traveler that comes disguised in a raincoat, pretending to be a local. The pretense doesn’t last long though, as Goa keeps dropping view after view, each one prettier than the other. Sometimes it feels like the earth and the sky are competing and travelers like me are unable to decide which of the two is prettier. Locals couldn’t care less though.
Daylight soon disappears and the yellow walls turn a couple of shades darker, marking the end of another beautiful day. It is now that the the vibrant nightlife of Goa comes alive. A chorus of male frogs that are determined to attract females with their unique calls bring about a change from the melodious birdsong of the evening. Crickets join the orchestra along with some others I can’t pinpoint. Sometimes, a couple of fireflies come to the party as well, making it all the more fun and glamourous.
A lullaby of melodious rainshower rocks me to sleep most nights. As I drift into dreamworld, I can’t thank the Universe enough for making this dream come true.
Your writing has taken leaps and bounds from the last time I read one of your writings… I would be joining the orchestra party soon, dancing in the puddles and eating a bite of that Poiee. See ya soon.
A story told in the language of poetry, a soulful song, and everything in between….. this post is.
The dog Choco is most sincere when it comes to the job of keeping company with u. Wo to day shift hi nahi balki night shift bhi karta hain. 🤪