Wednesday, June 17, 2015

The Western ghats and the monsoon...


Yes... I am a seasonal and seasoned vagabond...roaming and loafing in the wilderness, squandering the pent up zeal for the needed hour for the monsoon rain that is as special as it is with its punctual regularity..... the clouds in the sky like light worms are attracted to the gigantic mountain range of Western Ghats...The dense mass of black cotton mass that is stuffed haphazardly to the brim of the hiding sky...that sometimes cracks open with thunderous sound with a prelude of linear light mark against the back drop of the blocked out pavilion...A glorious rainy life creator’s concert has begun....The basic notation is the rustling of the leaves and the regular rhythmic drum beat of the dripping drops from the gigantic trees... A sight to fill your inner eyes and the sound ever reverberates in your immortal soul....
Though physically alone in the wild you feel.....the life flows in every capillary that carries sap to the branches, twigs, leaf and vein...the vastness engulfs your mighty ego without a trace...you are not yourself with the mother nature..Dripping the caves and tunnels and sprinkled into the large field of lush green...with a wonderful drawing on green canopies in different layered canvas...The dusty forest is taking an annual ritual shower to drop the dullness of the clean and stretch of vastness.......and look...the sparkling brightness even in the dim and gloomy shade of light...every leaf and twig shines like freshly polished twinkling gems....
You are on the bridge and that supporting huge columns of pillars rose like the tallest chimneys and dangles like a prop root...but still holds the gravity... Slopes down to a frightening descent...that muddy water that gushes from the ascent flooding the rivulets to join the other downward journey...looks strong Indian coffee or tea mixed in the milk....swirling and curving and suddenly disappears in the thick of green and misty diaphragm.....screen....
I look around in every possible angle like an ostrich that outreaches the vastness of a desert and as much as my neck turns..... And I gulp the ever galloping greenery around me like a man starving for a long time and to grab anything that comes by....My greedy eyes are bewitched by the beauty beyond words...The very being of my existence is dissolved....the mind melts in the meadows...lost in the lovely land of the unknown Lord... engulfing rainy mist infuses the intellect with a narcotic drug pot.....what a natural painting in the canvas immeasurable size to our eyes..
Wants to be poet and to sing a melody to please the marvel of the multi coloured green capped mountain, feels to be an artist to paint the unending expanse of green land... A tasteless idiot cannot be dumb but should exclaim the words that he has never heard....A dumb may get back his layers in the larynx of vocal cord to vibrate to the echoes and pathos of unfelt joy....and utter OH....!!! The visual Majesty of the hilly kingdom....and the sound resonate in the far pavilion.....The visual grace may stay in the fovea in the retina for ever like a convict imprisoned for life in the solitary confinement.....the never felt calmness so deep and crystal clear without a mini wave as if the stoical wind has forgotten it’s motion...

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