When the wind rises

In the Garden before the monsoon...

Monsoon originally refers to the big seasonal winds blowing from the Bay of Bengal and Arabian Sea bringing heavy rainfall to the Indian sub-continent.

I LOOKED UP from my book. The Badam tree and its lush undergrowth swayed in unison, in answer to my question. Aha. The young leaves which had been sunning stretched and nodded in confirmation.

Will I be seeing the chameleon today? Instead of doing his job staying low key among the bushes, he has given up any pretense lately. Every time I walk by the surge of shrub next to the cottage, he will scramble across my path, as if embarrassed to be caught so shamelessly. Hey, I saw a friend of yours yesterday. She is lime green with yellow tattoos and didn’t even care to step aside for my bicycle. Dazzling even among the red of the dirt path, she simply stared and concurred, yes I am that beautiful. I have no need to blend in.

Shouldn’t you guys be reviewing your self-preservation tactics? Or have you evolved so much that lifetimes spent in anonymity finally pays off with a freeze frame of glory?

Just then the chubby rabbit with a small round head hopped by, its left hind paw limping slightly. Bitten by a delinquent snake a few days earlier, he had quickly recovered to roam the grounds again. He missed the attention though, the kind a wounded animal gets in a tended garden.  

He felt compelled to explain the obvious. He winged his ears for dramatic effect.

“My paw still hurts, you know. Every time a big bird circles the sky I remember to duck.”

The rabbit paused for this to sink in.

“When the wind rises, I stand on my paws, pull my nose and sniff. A few days ago, a snake was in the bush and it bit me.” 

I looked up from my book. The wind had risen and skirted the eagle fern.

I sniffed and remembered, soon there will be rain.

24 September 2023

Auroville, south India