Monsoon used to start in June

Monsoon used to start in June

The very first day itself,  

While we were preparing for school  

After a cozy summer vacation,  

With sleepy eyes and heavy hearts  

I would rummage for books, pens, and pencils.  

Dim, damp, and dreary weather inside and out

Indifferent to boyish anxieties,  

Accompanied us to and fro.  

Summer retracted, skies and playgrounds wore a mournful look.  

Benign summer was always an ally to us,  

Helping plan everything we wanted to do.  

Even at noon we were out in the field 

No sunburn, no dehydration, no heat rashes.  

A perfect nostalgia for a sentimentalist.  

I don’t know when things changed.  

The weather became erratic, like a stream‑of‑consciousness novel.  

It used to rain in June, but now it is unpredictable.  

Benign summer has given way to a more penetrating one,  

Making us wait for a single drop of rain  

To quench our collective thirst.  

Rain lashed out and inundated every plain during the monsoon.  

Casualties, calamities, and catastrophes surged.  

The rhythm of Njattuvela has been disrupted,  

And complete weather anarchy has been set in motion.  

The monsoon used to start in June,  

But not anymore.  

Not only the monsoon, but all other seasons have violated their time frame,  

Disrupting nature’s circadian rhythm.  

Seasons affect people, don’t they?  

They hold sway over our moods, emotions, and nostalgia.  

Will the disordered seasons distort our perception,  

Or do our distorted perceptions disrupt the seasons’ cycle?