She had swelled up in anticipation. She seemed parched with thousands of cracks inscribed on her face. They bore witness to the atrocities that the harsh summer had lashed upon her. All her treasures, the jewels of vegetation, had atrophied away to dirt. She was warm now, ready to absorb the pearls of love sent from beyond.
These drops were the only communication between the two souls that cannot converge; a gift from heaven to his beloved. They were not an ordinary couple. They could not mark each occasion by exchanging gifts. This was the only festivity they observed. The only pleasantry they exchanged. This was the gift which bejeweled her face green with felicity, the expression he longed to see. These drops were to afforest her barren and acarpous face and transform it to the ornate beauty of spring.
The atmosphere, now expectant, was saturated with excitement, almost unbearable, signaling the impending reunion. The wind was strong but sultry with a hint of doubtful foreboding; taken as an omen for an old friend visiting unannounced. The clouds were thick. The heavy overcast condition perfectly delineated the situation of a somber lover pained to discover his love in such torment and destitute. The pain agitated him with opposing currents of belaboring wind. He trudged through the winds, always carrying safely the clouds he had brought. The clouds contained the gifts which he had brought to ameliorate the suffering and celebrate their reunification. Winds had picked up, almost a storm now. But the clouds grew darker and heavier still. Soon the wind cooled and steadied down. The strong but cool gusts of wind caressed her face so as to inspect the damage the summer had brought and swept away the remnant flaking of the baked surface.
The “Seasons”, as we see them, were just a part of their relationship. The joyous spring, the bereft summers, the rendezvous of monsoon and the hardships of winter were eternal cycles of good and evil. The seasons tested their love and pushed them to their limits. The summer was always the hardest. She had no respite from the fierce sun, breathing fire and igniting the sky. Torn and broken, she waited. She patiently waited for him to save her.
The clouds roared pronouncing the love. The cool wind now playfully tickled the vegetation, wave after wave, combing through the leaves left on them. All, the small plants and the huge trees, danced at the sonorous tunes of the wind. The mood was auspicious and the timing right. She had settled down, felt safe in his presence and seemed to be ready. Then it happened, the first drop fell from the clouds to reach her. The first drop disappeared as soon as it touched the ground. She took in the gift and sent out a sigh of relief; merely a puff of dust. Slowly, the drops increased in number, and he showered his love up on her, soaking her. The wounds on her face healed and pain alleviated. Her reunion with her lover doused the air with a sweet smell, an aphrodisiac. The animals called out for their dear ones. Seeking a mate most of them sang amorous songs; drunk from the overpowering smell. Some even danced. Few birds joined in. Young ones were amazed by the cold silver drops falling from the sky; the sky which only rained fire. They relished this rain and played in it. The whole ambience was that of a carnival; a carnival of love.
The lightning flashed intermittently. Each flash connected her with him. They were the questions she kept asking him. Through them, she came to know of his loneliness. With each thunder he reassured her of his joy and well-being. Soon the rain was pouring down. It cleansed away all the pain and qualms. They were reunited. Even the sun came out to apologize and greet them. He gifted them with a beautiful rainbow. A lovely sun beamed happily down on her and the vegetation below. They all glistened, donning pearl like droplets all over their body. They were content to witness the conjugation. The horizon was painted with lovely colors ranging from pastel violet to vibrant pink, adding to the aura of the event.
Such is the story of “Earth & Sky”. They are like two parallel lines which are always together but never meet. They are ever connected, but destined to be apart. It is "THE DISTANT HORIZON". Once in a year they rekindle the love that they share. It has to be amongst the oldest stories. The whole scene reminded me of fairytales which always ended happily. It was a rather antithetical ending to a torrid and scorching summer.
Wish you a rainier monsoon ahead!!
