Singin' in the Rain

January 26, 08'

The image of Madras when it rains will always be etched in my mind..

Its not just the rain. It so much more really. I hardly knew it then, but these will go on the becoming part of some of the happiest and most cherished moments in my life. Today all of these flashed through my mind with nostalgia and wistfulness. For the first time since I came here, I desperately missed Madras. Here's a random collection of glimpses into the sounds, the smells and the memories..

The gradual graying of the skies before the heavens burst open.
The intoxicating-ly damp smell of the earth as the first raindrops hit the dusty earth.
The overpowering lethargy of not wanting to go to school/college.
Listening to the sound of hard hitting rain on the asbestos roof above my courtyard.
Wearing bathroom chappals to school/college coz ur feet are gonna get wet anyway.
The small joys of not wearing socks n shoes to school that day.
Slushy roads I had to walk thru to get to my bus for college.
Being annoyed at dirt being splashed on the back of my jeans.
How the Anna Nagar roads looked flooded with water and people wading through them.
The lazy empty-ness of the classroom on a rainy day.
The rows of umbrellas I see lined up outside class.
The rumbling thunder in a distance while I daydream my way thru Macro class.
Getting my feet soaked in water puddles while walking from my classroom to where the bus is parked.
Avoiding all wet surfaces in the college canteen.
Wearing some ugly baggy clothes to college coz I just couldn't bother to wear something decent.
The sound of the rain splattering against my window.
Wearing socks to bed when it gets too cold at night.
Listening to loud croaking (really loud) of frogs ringing thru the night before i fall asleep.
Getting pleasantly half-drenched while walking back home after the bus drops me home and my mom's voice comfortingly barking at me soon after.
The touch of the wet door gate before I step in.
The neem tree just outside my house which pelts me with raindrops every time it sways.
The way the plants look in my garden just after it rains.
Untidy piles of garbage gently rotting in the rain.
Jumping over muddy brown puddles.
The freshly scrubbed green leaves on the trees after it rains.
The view from my kitchen window being a blur of green, brown and grey when I go for an afternoon snack.
Being pleasantly woken up to know that there's a holiday coz of floods and more heavy rains.
Hurrying (forcibly by mom) upstairs to get the clothes off the terrace before it gets wet and getting slightly rained on in the process.
Pretending to be Revathy n do that film song in the rain dance.
Walking barefoot on the ground when it rains.
Hearing the drains outside go drip-drip-drip after when it rains.
Curling up with a love-story when it rains.
Hot bajjis when it rains. Yum.
Watching that funny Mohanlal movie when it rains.
A power cut when it rains.
Hearing a transformer burst in a distance when it rains.
Being under an umbrella when it rains or under a blanket.
Sleeping when it rains, dreaming when it rains..

This is a nutshell is what I love about rainy days in madras.

The city of lights - My journey

American writer Mark Twain wrote: "Benares is older than history, older than tradition, older even than legend, and looks twice as old as all of them put together."

I couldn't agree with the writer more. The first thing that struck me about the city was its misty antiquity. It had the aura of having experienced the ravages of time, people and civilization itself. The buildings look ancient and jaded. The people crude, rugged and real. It had a soul about it that held together the collective faith of humanity as a religion.

For a little background, legend says that the city was founded by Hindu deity, Lord Shiva around 5000 years ago. Many Hindu scriptures, like the Rigveda, Skanda Purana, Ramayana, and the Mahabharata have mentioned the city and it is one of the 7 most sacred Hindu cities in India.

Sitting on the train back to Delhi after a stimulating trip to Benares, I felt enriched and touched by the experience of having visited, what now is to me, the heart and soul of India.

We traveled in the local, second class train compartment - which carries all the normal folks who were traveling from Delhi - Benares. I felt spoilt as I shuddered at the grime of sweat, dirt and dust on the train seat. My feet wading in patterns of watery dirt which my co-travelers and I somewhat managed to soak up with old newspapers. A young woman sat with her squealing baby opposite me. Her eyes had the vacant look of a soul who is in terms with the drudgery of her daily life. I watched the foggy darkness engulf the crowds of houses, people and shadowed trees.

On the journey back, I feel enlightened at having experienced a world so stupendously different from mine, that my life back home seems to be a far away alternate universe. I compared and contrast my life the people, whose lives I peeped into over the last couple of days.

The poorest of the poor, who pick at garbage for leftover food, gathering it in their hands to sort out what can actually be eaten. This is not a rare sight, even in urban areas, which re-reinforced in me - However miserable the poor man's life seems to be, they are still happier in their routine "misery" than many of us rich, comfortable folks.

The middle class Indian, who visits Benares on a pilgrimage. He hopes that a dip in the Ganga will cleanse him from his sins but I strongly suspect that he will go back to doing the same sins the very next day.

Ancient looking sadhus - the ones you thought existed only in childhood stories of the Panchathantra- clad in pieces of cloth of bright saffron, hair impossibly entangled and filthy- roll their prayer beads in their hand.. and rest in temple corners.

Bindi-wearing tourists dressed in funky Khadi pants and Ganesh T- shirts strolling through the markets - Some high on dope, still others who visit India on a break trying to experience their so called "spirituality. "

Music pandits - playing the flute & Veena, ordinary men and women who bustle around the streets- selling, buying and immersed in their little businesses - be it devotional hymns, diyas, bangles, sweets and so on.

We stayed at a modest, little guesthouse called "Hotel Ganapathy" which overlooked the Ganges. It was cold and the sun could hardly penetrate over the thick fog that crept over the flowing water. It was serene and pure until your eyes moved to the where the water reached the edge. Here, you can see people bathing, people washing their clothes, buffaloes, little kids diving, garbage being dumped, people drinking the same water, performing pujas and all kinds of other imaginable activities.

Benares has many exciting little markets of contradictions where you would get to experience a heady mix of sensually stimulating sights, sounds, smells and flavors. You would see the numerous tiny gulleys and filthy streets swarming with people, animals, garbage all at the same time. Tiny colorful shops - selling touristy trinkets, plastic cups and spoons, hanuman idols, jewelry and scores of bangles of every rainbow colour. Women dressed in shiny colors of silk, merchants screaming their goods, selling hot samosas and chai, while some harmless looking cows quietly drops its gold dangerously near your foot. You would find Phillipino tourists bump into creepy yogis looking to make a quick buck. And, small beggar children pestering you for food and money as a part of the larger crowds of people calmly strolling through the filth. You would find religious sadhus in a trance and hot Aloo poori being sold on the next corner.

One highlight of the trip was the evening boat ride on the Ganges. Our boat floated along on the now, quiet waters- the seemingly calm, endless water before us, the crimson setting sun painting a riot of colour behind us and alongside numerous, ancient-looking ghats (nearly 100 in number, one ghat for every temple, so around hundred temples- these are a series of steps which lead from temples to the river)

The wind was chilly, but did not take our interest away from the many eye catching sights along the way. We saw a funeral and cremation taking place on the river-bank, and 2 saffron-red clad foreigners getting married on a boat! When I tried to take a photo of the latter, another foreigner lady got up in the boat and held the pallu of her sari to hide thew newly weds!!

My friends who were traveling with me visited a few temples but I was a silent spectator as I neither knew much about their religion and faith nor did it appeal to me greatly. By this time, dusk had forced the night to bring out its umbrella of darkness. The ride back to our hotel was beautiful. From a distance I could see a sea of light and dark, numerous diyas being floated on the water like dots of fire in a distance. I could hear the distant hum and bells of bhajans being sung with fervor. The air smelt cold and of camphor. We parked our boats on the side of one of the ghats to witness one of the major pujas being performed at one of the temples. Hundreds of visitors gathered prayerfully. I heard the opening strains of "Om Jai jagadeeshwa hare.. " being sung in unity along with the clanging of temple bells. Suddenly, it didn't matter what religion I belonged to. In that moment, I was touched as I felt a bubble of warmth and joy exploding inside. The faith of the people and the presence of God was so real and palpable, that it was hard not to believe that God was right there!

This trip was an eye-opener for a number of reasons.

I was somewhat disturbed to find myself a complete foreigner to this land. A country I had never attempted to understand - whose values, ethos and social systems were quickly typecast against the values of the western world always appealed more to my urban upbringing. It revealed how little I know about India, its culture and its people and its role in shaping my identity.

Next, it left me feeling slightly unsettled about the perceived unkindness or injustice of the stark inequalities of existence. The poverty in the city constantly slapped you in the face and left you uncomfortable. At the same time, it was soothing to know that it never stops people from losing hope or living their lives happily. I was born in this life and circumstances which to me now looks so perfect, its almost unreal. I grapple with knowing that millions of others did not get such a good deal.

Last, it made me realize that I most of the time either never notice or take for granted the distinct beauty of incredible India. The ethnic, cultural, religious, racial divide continues to break down barriers to give soul and light to the diverse potpourri, that is India.