SEHARAMPUR

I was not in Seharampur for 24 hours and I had experienced a monsoon rain which according to everyone there had not happened with such intensity for as long as they could remember. I stayed with a pastor who also heads up a remote training and education ministry for young adults in the city and surrounding villages. So this pastor turns to me this evening as we were driving to the fruit market to pick up some fresh fruit and vegetables (including my new favorite, fresh mangos) and he says to me, “I think we should get some rain tonight.”

Some of the guys after doing a little clean up in the flooded basement.

Just a side note - I know that people in India have different ways of doing things and I really am all about engaging the culture and embracing the differences. Really I am... but there is one thing that is tough to get used to. I have noticed everywhere I go that men show affection for each other the way that women do in the states. Everywhere I go men are holding hands. You tend to see these kinds of things once in a while in the States, but it usually means something a little different. So when the pastor grabbed my hand and held it for a while as we walked through the market I swallowed my discomfort and told myself that this was India and they just do things differently here. When the pastor holds my hand he is not suggesting anything other than a simple demonstration of friendship.

Here is a little friend who appeared, I guess to avoid the flood waters that inundated his previous home.

Right… we get back to his home and his wife as cooked a wonderful meal, we are almost finished and we hear the rain come. It is loud on the tin and plastic roof. We have some fresh mangos after dinner and it is still raining. We step outside onto a small balcony and it is really raining and really windy out. We have a little chat outside in the wind and the rain, and one of the students runs up and says something with some urgency in his voice. I could not understand what he was saying because it was in Hindi, but the pastor begins to head for the stairs and I started to formulate some possible scenarios in my head.

The view from the rooftop where many household chores.

It turns out that it rained so hard the drainage system got backed up and could not drain all the runoff. It backed up into the basement, which is where the students sleep, and where the guest room is. Yeah, I am in the guest room. I could see water bubbling up through the floor and spilling into the area where the guest room is, which is in the lowest part of the basement, and where does water go?? It follows gravity, to the lowest part of the basement. Oh, and of course my duffle bag with all my stuff is sitting on the floor, in what is was two inches of water.

Storm clouds coming in before Sunset.

For a little extra drama, the door was locked and they could not find the key. Oh and so is the “electronic voltage corrector” was on the floor as well. It takes 220 volts of electricity and makes it 110 volts. If we were to turn that on at the wrong moment we would have been standing in two inches of electrocution. I pulled my bag out of the water, then got a chair and put the Electronic Voltage Converter on the chair, to avoid any possible accidental frying of myself. I checked through my bag to see how much I was going to have to string up on a clothesline over the course of the night. I was shocked to stick my hand in my bag and discover that everything was dry. Nothing got wet. I could not believe it. Except I did believe because I could see that nothing was wet. Needless to say my first day in Seharampur was a very interesting.

DANCE

The air sings with the sound of water droplets breaking through into this world.
The ground chants to the rhythm of rains that pound earthen drums.
The darkened sky and deepening clouds shield dampening air from equatorial sun.

Louder it grows as heavy skies open up,
like waves ever crashing and never receding,
like weights falling and crushing the ground.

The sun is gone,
The mountains vanish,
and the puddles dance...

MONSOON

I found out just before leaving for Derhadun that in Northern India, this time of year is the beginning of their monsoon season. Yeah, I guess when I think of the Himalayas I don’t think of Monsoons, but here I am and it rains for at least half of the day, and is cloudy for most of the rest of the day. The sun has come out for an hour or so since I arrived.


I should say though that I love seeing the clouds pour over the mountains behind the school.

RAINS

The Summer rains are falling

They fill the dried up streams
The parched earth drinks it in
And dusty paths now are mud

Blue sky masked in shades of gray

God wrings out the clouds
Droplets form like buckets
And rain like puddles falls

Lakes and oceans merge
Rivers connect them all
The Summer rains are falling
The plush green grass returns
The babbling brooks are swelling
Liquid life on a sojourn

Summer

In Summer times
The sun does rise
And the breeze caresses my face

The long warm days
and starlit balmy nights
seem to slow the reckless pace

Long roles the thunder
bright the lightning strikes
and rain drops each other they chase

Sky is bluer and ocean warmer
the air humid and heavy
it seems this is always the case

When finally the sun goes down
and late the stars come out
It is then that the moon give chase

In long summer days
The light lingers late
Evokes a smile that winter cannot erase

Autumn

The Autumn rains are falling,
leaves are shedding their green
streaks of yellow and orange
and the rains are falling.

In the air a slight chill
the chill makes the air seem clear
seems cleaned by the change of the seasons
there's a chill in the change in the air

The tide of green recedes
leaving a shore of orange and red
soon will be a barren shore
the green recedes, the color breaks through

But for now the autumn rains are falling
the air is clear and clean
the colorful shore remains
and life is good...

Just a thought...