The colour of Monsoon is green. When Monsoon invades with its lunatic wind and fierce supremacy all my senses get drenched, it conjures me to be in its magical delight till I see the blue sky once again. Until then my colour is green, my happiness is green, and my dreams illuminate in green. I get displaced from reality.
These days, other than the green slimy frogs which croak-sitting on the newly shaped red mud heaps-I see every image in green. I see the vegetation around me in never ever seen freshest green shades– may it be the creepers or the soul cleansed thick-wood trees which stand soaked; welcoming their sprouting infant leaves. Green is more greeny now…
I see green in its all exquisite splendour. I see newer greens in the grass, shrubs, and the moss. I see the fresh green in drenched guava leaves, mango trees and in the papaya orchards. I see the green a little more greener- similar to a green which you would probably imagine if I ask you to think of a virgin rain forest in a far off island not necessarily named after an emerald.
The relentless Monsoon always awakes my most surrealistic dreams in green. I saw a dream in which I was in a paddy field, which was a whimsical green expanse stretching far to a lake flowing by the side of a mountain- which made me impatient to explore my newly popped up desire to see the shade of green in my foreseen meadow of dreams across- seen in distance.
I saw a woman who had a familiar face, even though I couldn’t recognise who she was, as I instantly fall into a trance seeing her or might got trapped in her enchanting charm that let my vision go blurry. Yet I could feel she was young and beautiful as every man would dream to be with in a rainy night and beyond.
She was draped in a green saree (I’m least surprised, as it is frequent in the fantasies of all Indian men). She was walking towards me, but not in the mandatory slow motion as it would require in a dream sequence of an Indian film. She was holding a large plantain leaf over her head; in the sky, clouds were shaping up behind her. She was nearing to me looking straight into my eyes to which I stood frozen skipping a beat or two of mine. What else you need to visualise a typical cuddled-cupid-couple-dance in rain, all set in the backdrop of green... it’s Indian Greenery! (Shrugs)
This monsoon green is more greener! Green is the colour of longing. Green is the colour of hope. Green is colour of the distance which separates me and my desires. The Green is once again pushing me to go behind my dreams – greenhuedreams! Green soothes me now above all caresses. It’s a wicked monsoon and it’s greening here!
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