If I were a season, I'd be monsoon

With all the wonders as I see, Monsoon in Bengal never fails to please my soul with the rejuvenation it brings. Everything seems greener. Nature expresses its beauty after the tiring summer and breathes a new life to every face. The majestic aura of the Monsoon engulfs the city of Calcutta with its magnificent arrival. You can notice the joy and the certain thought of relief everywhere.

Monsoon has other colours, here, in Calcutta. The grey clouds surpass the horizon and I close my eyes, deeply breathe in the heavy monsoon air and the petrichor hits me. The city witness velvety dusk, quick hide-and-seek of the setting sun from behind the clouds with an intense indigo blue lighting up with a slice of soft waxy moon. Coconut leaves rustle in the wet breeze and the Saturday evenings murmurs joyously after the monotony of the tedious rain.

Walking along the streets of Rabindra Sarobar on a monsoon afternoon happened to remove the tiredness after a tough practice session in my cricket club. The cool breeze and a slight usual chill down through the spine after the touch of first few drops used to make me hurry under some shed in vain, urging me to fall in love wearing the drenched jersey, nevertheless.

Taking a circular train and travelling to Princep Ghat along the river Ganga makes me realise how trifle human inventions are to the nature. Witnessing the colours of monsoon, right from below the Howrah Bridge blends the game between the pioneering skills of human and the mighty clouds. The Victoria Memorial is considered the most beautiful human architecture in the city. The white marbles of the museum sketches a marvelous contrast to the dark monsoon clouds.

Monsoon brings real tantrums for the housemakers for its uncertainty throughout any particular day. At times Monsoon can be darker than our thoughts, heavier than evil deeds. Yet, it makes the best out of its existence for 'The City of Joy'.

Sketch by Ananda Das

May it be frightening, it's always magical. The water whirpooling, the sky thundering and me witnessing the mesmerising views my city surprises me with. The rains in Calcutta are laden with an indescribable feeling of joy. With everything bursting into shades of green, aromas of 'pakodas' and 'shingara'('samosa'), as we call in bengali, wafting out of every house, the scent of old books in College Street, the random powwows at every lane enchants my soul and makes me fall in love with Calcutta all over again.

Shankha Ghosh in his poem had rightly said, "This Calcutta has another Calcutta within, learn to watch and explore."