Chasing The Monsoon – Alexander Frater

I first heard of this book from a friend who said one of the sessions in 2018 Vishnupuram Ilakkiya Mukaam (every year in Ooty Narayana Gurukulam) was on this book.

Along with a few of my friends, I traveled to the Kanniyakumari district in 2019, when the southwest monsoon was in full flow. We thoroughly enjoyed and immersed ourselves in the deluge in those few days.

I started this book in the memory of my monsoon travel. Like before, this small write-up is an appreciation of the book. I love the sentences when it sounds lyrical and poetic. As the writer chases the monsoon, the rhythmic prose comes alive just like the monsoon rains.

One such vivid monsoon remark - The wind drops, it gets very dark, there is terrific thunder and lightning and then – the deluge! Suddenly the air is very cool and perfumed with flowers. It is a time of rejoicing. And renewal.

Let me share more of such lines I love at the end, just for my revisits.

A visit to a neurologist sowed the idea for this travel when Alex met the Indian couple at the hospital. When Alex expresses the idea, the reply from the woman was - ‘A race with the rains!’ she said. ‘From Cape Comorin to the Himalayas! That would be a lark!’

The travel was actually in 1987 when no lesser person than the prime minister Rajiv Gandhi himself was anxiously waiting for the monsoon. The writer starts the journey with the western arm of the monsoon that enters Kerala and continues to catch the eastern arm of the monsoon in northeast India.

Along the way, he portrays the historic significance of places, businesses, effects on people, shares the notes from British colonial officers about the monsoon and famine.

One of the Kerala traditional medical practitioners captures the monsoon mood like this - ‘It’s the most beautiful time! It means rejuvenation, greenery, new growth. It’s nothing less than the reaffirmation of life.

I will reread this book, and hopefully, I will be in one of these monsoon places when I read.

Some of the sentences I liked.

India is embraced by these two great wet arms

‘With the monsoon roaring away outside even algebra could seem like a celebration of life.’

It came from the south-west with a curious singing note, steady and melodic.

The imbroglio of inky cloud swirling overhead contained nimbostratus, cumulonimbus and Lord knows what else

‘The rains!’ everyone sang. The wind struck us with a force that made our line bend and waver.

The rain hissed on the sea and fell on us with a buzzing, swarming noise.

The monsoon’s arrival is quite magnificent. It comes towards you like an orchestra

Raindrops rang like coins on the flagstoned path

From the surrounds of each door and window rain came seeping in like the sea invading a leaking ship.

ASK A GOAN – HAND ON HIS HEART – WHEN HE LOVES GOA BEST, ‘WHEN IT RAINS …’

Each glimpse of water had some aspect of Goa reflected in it – coconut groves, small villages, white churches, men on bicycles

Water cascaded off the tiled roof in an unbroken sheet and flame-coloured bouganvillaea blossoms, dislodged by the deluge, were strewn along the passageway

 

There was a quote from Nehru on the rains.

I have been to Bombay so many times, but I have never seen the coming of the monsoon there. I had been told and I had read that this coming of the first rains was an event in Bombay; they came with pomp and circumstance and overwhelmed the city with their lavish gift.