Storms of Bengal: the kalboshekhi

3:15 PM Naresh stood at his open window. Dark clouds loomed large on the horizon. All day had been furiously hot. Naresh drew a deep breath relishing the look, feel and smell of the moment, ripe with the promise of rain.The tree line directly opposite his house swayed wildly in the wind. Naresh thought it was a love dance, the movements both ecstatic and impatient for the ultimate union of the earth and the skies. The call of the clouds had awakened a sweet nostalgia in his heart. Plop plop came the heavy drops. The strong smell from the freshly wet asphalt filled his nostrils. 

Naresh is from West Bengal in India. The monsoons arrive with the Kalboishakhi to his town. These are tropical thunderstorms of notorious fury. Despite its destructive reputation, it is a welcome boon, bringing much needed relief to the parched lands. Monsoons in Bengal are a time of muddy roads, water logging, stuffy raincoats and school closures. They are also the season of the well loved mangoes. 

A July evening from many years ago floats into Naresh's mind. He and his girlfriend are at Outram Ghat, by the river Ganges. They are sharing a paper wrapped serving of Bhel Puri. Naresh remembers the spicy preparation of thinly chopped cucumbers, tomato, onions, cilantro with muri (rice cereal). Momentarily, he could almost taste the twang of the rock salt in the bhel puri. The boatsmen had refused to take them out on the ferry as the storm could start any minute. As the sun played hide and seek with the thickening rain clouds, the skies were lit with a brilliant light. And then the rain started. Other bystanders, the food peddlers, the boatsmen all ran for shelter. Naresh and Preeti walked hand in hand by the roaring Ganges oblivious to everything but themselves and the rain... 

Naresh lay down on his bed allowing himself to be lulled into sleep by the sweet sound of rhythmic rainfall. 

6:20 PM Naresh is 13 year old. He is on their open terrace with his mother and sister. They are busily gathering the clothes that had been hung out to dry on ropes tied across bamboo poles in their courtyard. Naresh waits impatiently for the Kalboishakhi to start. With the first touch of the rains something crazy clicks in his brain. Screaming with excitement he rushes to join the boys who played football in the slippery mud on the open grounds, ignoring his mother's strong remonstrances.

7:25 PM Naresh awakens with a start. A wonderful aroma of food assaults his senses. His wife Preeti has come in to the room, with both their dinners. Two plates are piled with steaming hot khichuri (curried rice), beguni (battered eggplant fries) and dim bhaja (omelette) - a traditional cuisine on rainy days in Bengal. He rubs the sleep our of his eyes and looks out the window to catch how the skies are looking. A flash of lightning lights up the complete darkness outside. Something catches his eyes, something falling from a tree. Before he could investigate further however, he gets distracted by the pang of hunger and switches focus to the inviting dinner he is being served.

What had fallen was a little Robin's nest, from the tree who's wild dance Naresh had been admiring. For a fleeting moment, I wondered at the cruelty of fate.. then forgot.