Dark clouds gather on the horizon, blocking the sun, even as the first drops of the monsoon rain kiss the land. All eyes are turned upwards to catch a glimpse of the clouds that promise relief from the scorching summer.
It starts off as a sweltering day at the picturesque Vizhinjam Harbour in Thiruvananthapuram. As minutes slip by, grey clouds, laced with purple, begin to creep up on the horizon, until they form an ominous wall, almost obscuring the sun. The wind, till then just a breeze, buffeting waves gently against the concrete breakwater, begins to sigh in earnest. The sullen waves start to crest higher, inch by inch, and the motor boats moored in the harbour, begin to rock more aggressively. As if sensing the turn in the weather, tens of boats laden with the day’s catch — mostly, mackerel, pomfret, sardine, tuna, and seer fish — begin to file into the safety of the harbour. Fishermen on the beach too bustle about trying to secure their boats and nets.
“The full force of the monsoon will be felt in a day or two. I know because we’re yet to encounter the kolappan waves at sea,” says Xavier Louis, a local fisherman, sniffing the sudden nip in the air. “It’s what we fishermen call the big waves; those which rise like a mountain, deep in the sea. The waves are caused when the blustery wind from the south and that from the west meet in the sea in fury. The wind, as it blows towards the land, brings the rain,” he explains.
Whether the fisherman realises it or not, it’s this same wind that once brought in its wake, the early sailors and traders to the Western coast of India. It is the same monsoon, incidentally, a term derived from the Arabic word mawsin, which decides the fate of famers in the country, which in turn decides just about every aspect of life in the country. As it traverses the mainland, hitting first along the coast of Kerala, the monsoon, magnificent and ferocious in equal measure, heralds a season of change, of life, rejuvenation and of fury and, sometimes, widespread devastation too. No wonder the monsoon has, and continues to inspire, generations of poets, novelists and filmmakers.
Artists might find their muse in the monsoon, but as it makes its annual tryst with the country, it is the fisherman who first greets the rain-bearing winds that sweep in from the Indian Ocean. As the beaches and coastline get consumed by the hungry sea, the waves of wrath ensure that the fisherman goes through a trying period till the rains abate.
“Ironically, it’s when the sea is roughest that it’s most bountiful and you can catch shoals upon shoals of shrimp, squid, ribbon fish and the like,” says George Freddy, a prosperous fisherman-turned-boat owner, who has just sent his three boats off to sea, having himself returned with the morning’s catch just as dawn broke on the horizon.
Meanwhile, up the coast at Valiathura, where an old abandoned pier juts out into the sea, dozens of people are braving the afternoon heat and humidity to watch the drama unfold in the sky. The sea here is much rougher, the squall much more sudden. That doesn’t seem to deter them much, particularly the anglers, who have come from near and far, to catch the plentiful fish that swim in the depths by the pier.
Anglers Vinod and Haja, a local fisherman, have even attracted quite a crowd as they pile up their catch. “We’ve been hanging around the pier for several days now because we enjoy watching the rains coming in from the sea. Because we’re on a pier, we can feel the strength of nature’s fury at its best,” says Haja, as the sky opens up, first as a smattering of droplets, then a drizzle, and finally a sonorous downpour.
As faces turn upwards to soak in the rain, fat streams from the heavens wash away the heat and dust of the summer, leaving the landscape bathed in shimmering raindrops that catch the sun in thousands of rainbows.
Ah, it is the monsoon!
