As soon as I reached back home—it has been more than a week now—my friend texted me:
“Did the L&M welcome you with flowers at the airport?”
“No flowers, only an umbrella!” I replied.
She was mystified at first, but couldn’t stop laughing when it hit her.
When the plane touched the ground, I looked out of the window and saw the wet tarmac. My heart danced with joy. It had rained! And it looked like it was likely to rain some more.
The one thing I miss when I leave my beloved Keralam—yes, we are officially Keralam now and not Kerala—is the rain. And, of course, the many shades of lush green that the rain brings to life.
On the way home, I couldn’t stop grinning at the sight of the overcast sky.
The L&M informed me that there had been thunder and lightning, too, just before I landed. That dampened my mood a bit. I like rain minus the thunder and lightning. This, though, is the season of the North-East monsoon. Thulavarsham, as we call it. The days are generally hot and humid. The clouds start building up closer to midday, and by evening the sound and light show begins, followed by the music of falling rain.
As a child, I used to hide inside a room with the windows and doors closed, not daring to venture out. Nowadays, I don’t do that, but I can’t help the sudden shock when I hear a particularly loud thunderclap.
The newspapers aren’t helping, either. There have been reports of people dying from lightning strikes. What’s more, I read—it was also on TV—that an elephant tethered outside its home had died from a lightning strike. How sad is that!
However sad, we have to see the season through.
The very next day after I reached home, I fell asleep after lunch and didn’t wake up until early evening. Imagine that! When I opened my eyes, everything looked dark because the curtains were drawn and the sky was overcast. From what I could make out in the dimness, I just couldn’t figure out where I was or why the window was on the wrong side of the room. It took me a while to realise that I was in my own home and not my son’s.
Only then did the L&M tell me that there had been a severe thunderstorm. I just couldn’t believe it. So deep had been my sleep! Jet lag had hit me hard.
This wouldn’t do, I told myself. So I sternly admonished myself: “No napping after lunch, Shail!” No one wants to be awake at night when the world, or at least my part of it, is sleeping. It’s all very well that people are awake in the USA. But I was back home in India, and it was better that my biological clock, or whatever, adjusted to the new timings as soon as possible.
It has been a tussle, but eventually I won, sooner than I thought.
©️ Shail Mohan 2026
