Before the monsoons came

In cochin, lakes around us, trees bathing in the perennial rain, the smell of puttu and meen curry, the silent cooing of a bird hidden by the glorious view, the rising sun, us guys and a life.


The rains hadnt arrived yet, it was may after all, and yet it poured; not the rain that brings the gods, but the rain that wets, entices and receeds. It wasnt monsoon yet, but we feared that rain may come and spoil our week long vacation. It hinted so at the very outset, the first morning was spent indoors, five young guys watching a romantic comedy, those were the 'anything goes' days. We werent prejudiced against a kind of cinema, or genre of books - hell we went and sat among cheering kids to watch harry potter meet a prisoner from god knows where. We had'nt met the monsoon yet.

A ferry ride to the other side of the city, gliding through the waters that made room for the huge container ships and the rain drenched fishermen. We were just spectators, the skyline of the port city was performing, the unmoving beauty moving hearts. A walk on the shores of the sea, on the edges of a great nation, sea clammering against the man made wall, trying hard to claim a piece of the beauty we stood on. A shimmering glimmering sun preparing to drown on the far side of the ocean. We stood mesmerised, virgin men who had'nt met the monsoon yet.

A drive to the lake paradise called Alleppey, a king's feast in a loving home to celebrate the birthday of a boy we knew for just that one day. A hearty burp.

A rented boat, five friends, two hours of solitude. Crushes were disclosed, stories were shared, tomorow will be a struggle, today was magic. Birds in the sky, fish in the river, smiling boys who had'nt met the monsoon yet.

That trip ended in hugs, And Something else ended too. For as soon as we left the monsoon came. It was bound to catch up with us. After all Indian trains are known to be slow.