Monsoon? More Soon...

Come the winds of monsoon, and we are relieved - with the cruel rays and scorching heat of the sun finally gone, we welcome the season with open arms. We dance with joy and let the elixir of heaven wet our bodies, as we feel the drops of rain strike against our skin... It is a joyous occasion, a symbol of cleanser of our souls and bodies. As P.B. Shelly says in Ode to the West Wind, rain is a tree whose roots lie in the earth but whose branches spread into the sky... Rain adds a dimension to our character - it is a symbol of growth, of nourishment, of life - the round drops falling down as we try to catch them, the brightened colours after a downpour, and the petrichor (the scent of rain on dry earth) after a fresh rain... We often stand amidst the miracle of nature and yet we often fail to appreciate its beauty. And this season stops at nothing to remind us of that.

We often connect rains with joy and celebration. But what many of us don't know is the legend behind this 'best season of all times' (Yes, some of us are really crazy about it; they even have pits dug up in their homes to enjoy the free 'swimming pool'). According to Greek mythology, the Titan Atlas, the god of astronomy and navigation, who held the sky on his shoulders (do a Google Image Search on Atlas, you'll recognize him) had a son named Hyas by a nymph called Pleione. One day, Hyas went to hunt into the forests. But unfortunately, he, instead of preying on a lioness, became a prey to her and was killed. His sisters, the Hyades were so grief stricken, that they mourned for their dead brother and wept till death. It is their tears that are said to pour down the heavens as rain. And because of their unending love for their brother; Zeus, the father of Gods, turned them into stars, forming the head of the constellation,Taurus. Their appearance in the sky marks the start of the rainy season in Greece. Hence the name Hyades, meaning 'the rainy ones'.

We celebrate this season with such joy, the story behind it being tragic to its core.

But there is more to this season than just thrill and excitement. While the people who benefit obviously from this season are the umbrella sellers (Yeah, raincoats too... And if, in future, there comes something that can actually help us dodge the rains, then that too) and farmers, this 'very refreshing' season of 'heavenly works' soon starts pissing people off, and I will give you plenty reasons why.

First of all, the mud. Yeah, the Hindi word keechad adds a 'fancy' ring to it. Go to some parts of North India, and you will hear people pronouncing it as chikkad. Laugh all you want. That's how they utter it. And so, this non-appealing brownish physical mixture of earth and water is as bad as it can get. If you're wearing sandals, you're in for a sure treat. Later in the day, you will be compelled to wash your sandals and your feet. And not to mention that uneasy feeling that bugs you as this 'heavenly gift' sticks to your feet.

You may win the first round of this championship, and walk home smiling at the fate of mud, as you wear shoes and save your feet from becoming a harbour to foreign sludge; but the rain is an active ally of mud and as I already mentioned before - 'roots in earth, and branches in heaven'. When you shit at the roots, the branches will give you fruits full of crap. (Copyright intended for this quote) And so, when you try to battle against the earth, the heavens are not gonna forgive you for that. As the rains continue through the day, the weak areas in the muddy roads will soon enough transform into potholes filled with muddy waters. The roads would get flooded, and then, you'd have to dip your feet in the water. And that's how they begin - the most painful hours of the day, as you try to battle against water in your shoes alongwith your wet feet and socks. And believe me, it's not a pretty situation. So goes the saying, "When it comes to nature, you have to compromise". You go to battle with the forces beyond your ken, you will find yourself kissing their ___. (What? I meant 'feet'!)

And the mud is not the only problem. With rains come hundreds of different species of insects, which are determined to make your days worse if the mud couldn't harm you, you know, just in case you are a car person. While that may be a carnival for the entomologists, you sure aren't gonna enjoy any of that. With their constant buzzzing sounds freaking you out, you wouldn't even be able to watch a movie on your laptop or a show on your TV with the lights off. So, your special 'screening' would be ruined; and you would be forced to waste electricity just to keep those creatures away. (That's a very good excuse for wasting power, by the way.)

As if that was not enough, we now come to an area, which although a master-art often only capable of being performed correctly by women, is often practised by men as a result of some punishment awarded by the womenfolk of the house. And that, my dear readers, is the art of 'Hanging Washed Clothes on ropes'. (Smile all you want). The gods of rain are merciless in this case. The clothes stay wet for days, compelling us to either wear the same old clothes over and over again, or to stink wearing the partially dried clothes. The home becomes a laundry, with clothes hanging all over the place - towels on the doors, shirts on the chairs, and undergarments anywhere you run your eyes. The stink of damp clothes fills the entire place and your bodies soon become the dining halls for Rhino-virus... And just in case you wished for leniency, the rhino-virus isn't among the ones who'd spare you. The colds will last for at least a week, and then you'll curse the rains for your plight, as you cough and spread the joy of life around.

As I already said, it's not all pinks and roses. While what I mentioned are only instances of personal experiences, there are far worse and devastating experiences associated with rains - heavy floods, thunderstorms, power failures and what not. These can really disrupt our lives and cause unrecoverable damage to a nation - these are some things we have got to live with...

Everything has two sides. Rains can be providers - they make plants grow, they nourish our souls, they add colours to our lives in the form of beautiful rainbows. But they can also be destructors - they can take away things we love in ways we would have never imagined. Appreciate beauty when it's in front of you, but don't try to play with forces beyond your control, because you never know when they will come to punch you in the face...

Adios!

Than'Queue'

We have witnessed lines for so long, and have even been explained the importance of lines - although they are 'unreal', still they form such a major part of our reality. Idioms like "get someone on the line", "cross the line", "a fine line", "along the lines of" or "read between the lines" have been long employed to adorn our language. Half of our elementary school geometry is based on lines - angles, triangles, polygons and so much more... We have often heard about the funda of "joining the dots"... Looking back at life, and seeing a line, and it makes us ponder...

Well, I am not interested in all that. The point is that 'line' is like a superhero; it's like Iron Man of shapes (some might say Batman, but really, I don't wanna go into these 'political' controversies). We like things when they are making sense - when they are 'straight' (That explains why people are so harsh on gay people, although I think they have a full right to be happy until they are not doing anything to harm others). We don't like a 'curled up' life, we are always wanting to 'straighten' things out, you know, 'getting things in line' or 'drawing a fine line' between good and bad. And that is just so intriguing. This non-real two-dimensional shape has earned something that people like me take almost a lifetime to achieve - 'importance'.

But lines are really not what they look like in mathematical fairy tales. Or the philosophical ones. When you actually witness a line, you'd hate it - deep down, you'd want out of it. And that's what happens when you stand in a 'line' - yes, the British say 'queue'. They do have fancy words for everything, right? Ah, the charms of a royal language! Anyhow, potato, potahto... Not the time to quibble over terminology.

We are not a patient species - only some of us are patient enough to wait for our friend for over half an hour and then not even point out that he/she is late. Yeah, your friend knows that he/she is late. It's not about stating the obvious, it's about making them feel guilty. And so, obviously, when you are waiting in a long queue with say, twenty people in front of you, and above that, the clerk sitting at the counter seems to be stuck in a space-time continuum, you really have nothing to do but wait. And those are the times you feel like ripping yourself apart...

That happened with me today. I had to pay my college fees, and it being an institute of 'Technology', believes firmly in saving technology for better uses rather than allowing online transactions. So, some 220 people from my branch were supposed to pay their fees today. And that's not the end of the tragedy. The counter opens at 10:30 a.m. and is open only till 3:30 p.m. Also, 1:30 p.m. to 2:30 p.m. is the lunch time for officials. So, they expect 220 students to deposit their fees within just four hours. And did I mention that it was a working day? So, we were supposed to attend classes too! Thankfully for us, that didn't happen because, well, we bunked our classes. The only other way of doing both the activities would have been teleportation or use of clones, but let's leave something to the experts, right?

I started, with great effort and determination from the end of the queue, and believe me when I say this, just the sight of how long the queue was would've given you chills. In a second of all possible thoughts, you would have known that you were going to groan in pain at the end of the day and curse the administration for saving the technology for alien invasions. For a better idea, I've posted a rough figure of what the queue was like:

And did I mention that it was raining heavily? All the roads were flooded, and there was no chance in hell that one could cross a road without getting their feet wet. Earlier that day, I was debating with my friend about how shoes were better on rainy days rather than sandals. And within an hour of standing in the queue with my wet feet and socks, I was already realising how wrong I was.

The clerks at the counter were having free entertainment, as people roared when someone tried to break the line to get their way in, or clapped when a particular individual's form fell into water. Almost everyone was paying in cash, and so, counting of money took even more time. Not only that, the person counting the money was so slow, even a snail could've beat him. He counted a wad of cash three times and then verified it with the counting machine. And occasionally, he'd play a game by sifting back and forth the bundle, as if he enjoyed the sound of the notes in the process.

Amidst all this, I was fortunate to have three of my friends just ahead of me, and that stopped me from being bored to death. It was a festival of humdrum chit-chat. All topics like novels, TV Series, Dreams, Deja Vu, restaurants, etc. were actively covered with the occasional saccharine mixture of beautifully woven swears. That was only temporary. No sooner were we back where we began - clueless, restless and jobless.

Finally, with just fifteen people ahead of me after approximately two and a half hours, I knew I had covered an arduous journey. And it was approaching its end. But, there was still one problem - it was already half past one, and so the counter was closed for an hour. Thankfully, the guard monitoring the straightness of the queue had a solution - he wrote serial numbers on our forms, helping us to make a queue when we'd return after an hour. I was completely exhausted, and the water in my shoes was bugging me more than anything.

Anyhow, the counter opened after an hour and we got in line again, after much arguments with the newcomers who had formed a line while we were away. We were able to regain our former positions, thanks to the guard. My faith in humanity was restored. And finally, after about 45 more minutes, I was able to pay my fees and get my receipt.

And I greeted them with a 'Thank You', for making me stand in line for four hours, for wasting my entire day, for making me tired as hell and for giving me a reason to write a blog post.

Lines may seem to be simple, but they are much more complicated. Only when you are a victim of one do you understand their potential.