The monsoon came to Jamnagar today. Sort of. The ten minute kind of monsoon. The first rain in ten months woke this sleepy town in the way that you’re frozen awake at the sight of something stunningly beautiful. Even the electricity went out, as if it too was caught off-guard by a sweet surprise (even though it was actually turned off because the officials know their infrastructure short-circuits with the slightest bit of water). People stood on balconies, staring and smiling. Kids came outside and splashed and danced. Someone drove a loud-speaker loaded cart down the street, playing devotional songs to God. And just when people’s fascination and unbroken gazes began to wander, the rain stopped, the sun came out, the streets dried, and the power was back.
Today I understood the kind of joy-of-rain that Homer writes of, that National Geographic waxes on about in poetic terms when reporting on the Kalahari.