The Magical Monsoon World

One rain, and a green carpet is laid over barren landscapes.

During most of the year, the ancient rocks of the Deccan preside over a desolate landscape. Dry grass, scraggly shrubs, skeletal trees; all covered by a thick layer of dust. The occasional flame of the forest adds a dash of colour for a few weeks a year, but apart from that, it is all shades of brown.

Once the first monsoon rain washes away the layers of dust, the colours start revealing themselves.The light green of the neem, the dark green of the banyan, and all the shades in between. Pools of water collect in rocky depressions, and reflect the colour of the clear blue sky.

But the real magic takes place underfoot.

Little shoots of green pop out from the earth. In a matter of weeks, a carpet of green is laid out over the once barren earth. Then come the flowers, the tiny flowers. Flowers that you could crush underfoot. Flowers which are visible only if you bend down and look for them.

Yellow flowers that look like the sun.

White flowers that toss in the breeze.

Flowers with a fragrance no butterfly can resist.

Solitary flowers.

Flowers that grow in inflorescences.

Even a flower that looks like a miniature hibiscus.

They toss and dance, competing with each other to attract the butterflies and the dragonflies.

They produce seeds and scatter them underfoot.

Before you know it, they are gone. An entire lifetime lived in just a few weeks.

But the seeds remain, carrying the life force with them. They will wait patiently for the rain; a year, two years, even three. And they will spring to life again.

Like the rocks, seeds know the virtue of patience.