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| A foggy morning outside my window in Delhi |
I love watermelon season. I noticed that Bangalore has two watermelon seasons. The first starts sometime in January. That’s when these huge piles of watermelons show up on the city’s sidewalks.
At night the piles are covered with big tarpaulins and I’ve seen lights and heard coughs coming from underneath, which means that the sellers must sleep with their watermelons (or pay someone to) – to prevent them from disappearing during the night!
They cost 20 rupees per kilo. Or less if you’re good at bargaining.
Another surprising thing is that any watermelon you choose is sure to be sweet and juicy.
Temperatures are starting to rise to the 30s now, and there’s nothing more satisfying than some fresh watermelon on a hot day!
Driving down the East Coast Road from Chennai to Pondicherry, it wasn’t until I was 30 kilometres away that I started to notice the scars of the cyclone that hit on December 29th. From the road I saw fallen trees, damaged houses, and palm trees leaning over at 90 degrees.
In the city the destruction was visible everywhere. Dead tree branches littered the sidewalks, many new stumps marked where trees used to be, compound walls and fences were broken, many roof tiles missing and thatched roofs completely gone. Bharathi Park was closed: many trees were uprooted and the paths obstructed with fallen branches.
In nearby Auroville, there was still no electricity or water supply in some parts two weeks after the storm. Electrical wires lay on the ground while the sounds of generators, chain saws and earth movers resonated in the air. It’s estimated that Auroville lost more than half of its trees. Many houses were damaged and the windmills which were used to harness wind energy were destroyed.
Having experienced violent storms in the past, many people told me that they knew a cyclone was on its way but underestimated its violence. It will take several more weeks to clear the debris and repair roofs, buildings and windmills. But apart from these reminders of the ferocity that was cyclone Thane, life seems to go on as usual with no damage to people’s spirits.
I bet whoever the person is who invented earmuffs never even considered for a second that India would be a good place to market them. I’m sure he (or she) never imagined that sultry South India would be the perfect place to make a killing with earmuffs.
Yes, it’s earmuff season in South India. Now that ‘winter’ is here, the earmuffs are out. Winter in Bangalore is ‘cold’ afterall. In the early mornings and at night, temperatures dip to a very cool 20 degrees Celsius – and sometimes even down to a ‘chilly’ 15! Warm sweaters, shawls, blankets, woollen caps and yes – earmuffs – are for sale everywhere. Winter is definitely here!
The earmuffs I see here are a bit different to the ones I knew while growing up in Canada (where your ears would get frostbitten if you didn’t cover them up!). Those earmuffs were connected with a flexible piece of plastic which was adjustable – and were placed on the top of the head. Indian earmuffs are somewhat different. They loop behind the neck. Top of head or back of neck, the result is the same. They cover your ears. But the really sexy thing about Indian earmuffs are the crazy patterns and colours. Camouflage. Ladybug. Tiger skin. Polka dots. Plaid. You can make a fashion statement with your earmuffs.
Only 25 rupees and many patterns and colours to choose from.
Picture the scene. I was at a wedding. Two aunties walked in and sat down just in front of me. They were dressed in resplendent silk saris and covered in gold jewellery. And they were wearing earmuffs. Camouflage pattern. How's that for a statement?
And Bangalore, where the weather is cooler and drier than most South Indian cities, is not the only place where earmuffs are all the rage. I’ve seen them in Chennai too, where they say there are three seasons: hot, hotter, and hottest! But the early winter mornings can have a slight nip in the air. And what better way to keep your ears warm then with some fuzzy camouflage-pattern earmuffs!
In demand: Blanket hawkers hope to cash in on the cold weather the city has been experiencing. A scene at Anna Nagar. — Photo: K.Pichumani © The Hindu Chennai city today: a mostly cloudy sky. Haze with pleasant condition in the morning. A marginally warm and humid afternoon likely. High 29 degrees Celsius. Low 22 degrees. Relative humidity: maximum 90%.
Since Raji has family visiting, I had to find another place to stay while I’m in Chennai. So I’m staying as a paying guest with M, a widow who is originally from Kerala. She is also a very devout Christian. There are many pictures of Jesus in her small living room, one of which is permanently lit up with a red lamp.
She was happy to find out that I was brought up Catholic. Every morning she asks me if I want to go to church with her and I always have an excuse ready: a concert here, a lecture-demonstration there. She was also happy that she would not be alone at Christmas and I was glad to keep her company. So when she asked me if I’d go to midnight mass with her, I readily agreed.
This was the first time I would be attending church in India. I had expected a typically sombre and solemn mass but it turned out to be a very different experience, something between a fun fair and a karaoke party!
We arrived slightly before 11pm. The atmosphere was festive, with loudspeakers blasting loud, screechy music. Off to the right side of the church, a manger scene was set up and next to that, a Christmas tree. This neighbourhood church happens to be the picturesque 16th century Luz Church built by the Portuguese in 1516, one of the landmarks of Mylapore. It was decorated with garlands of colourful lights and large lamps in the shape of stars. I was surprised to see the altar set up in front of the entrance with many rows of plastic chairs lined up in the small square in front of the church. Since the church occupies a small, intimate space, this alternative arrangement was meant to accommodate the many believers who were expected to come for Christmas mass.
We sat close to the front. Very quickly the rows filled up as families arrived with their kids in tow. The women wore brightly-coloured silk saris and the children were sporting earmuffs (the papers had reported that the spell of ‘cold weather’ was going to continue, with temperatures dropping to an alarming 26 degrees Celsius, two degrees below average!)
Sometime before midnight, a man stepped up to the mike and made an announcement in Tamil. That’s when it dawned on me that the mass would be in Tamil. I was in for a long night! Meanwhile, off to the left side of the church a group of children was assembling around microphones. They launched into a loud rendition of O Come All Ye Faithful, accompanied by a synthesizer and drum machine. Christian or not, the whole neighbourhood was going to be subjected to some Christmas cheer. This was followed by Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree: not exactly a Christmas carol I pondered, but a Christmas song nonetheless which seemed to keep up the festive atmosphere. Next came many fast-paced songs in Tamil that sounded more like film songs than carols or hymns. I have no idea whether these were Christmas songs or just popular tunes meant to keep the party going.
After the kids had sung their lungs out, things settled down a bit as mass began. Shortly after, at the stroke of midnight, the church bells rang (just as the neighbours had fallen back asleep?) as the priest carried a plaster statue of baby Jesus over to the manger scene and laid him in his makeshift crib.
Part of the mass was sung by the priest. He then launched into a long sermon – in Tamil of course. Judging by the laughter coming from the congregation, I was clearly missing out on all the jokes. The rest of the mass was more familiar with the usual sitting, standing, kneeling and genuflecting. When it came time to say “Peace be with you”, people put their hands together in a polite namasté and nodded to their neighbours instead of offering a handshake. It took some time to distribute communion to the large crowd. It was 2am by the time the mass ended. It concluded with one last number from the child choir: Happy Birthday! The whole crowd joined in to sing Happy Birthday to Jesus. Then a huge cake was carried outside, cut and distributed. Such a conclusion to Christmas mass was unusual for me, but I finally understood the party atmosphere: it was a birthday party after all!
I knew it was raining in Pondy. I was forewarned. So I took my raincoat and my most beat-up pair of sandals.
It didn’t rain. It poured. It was like someone suddenly turned on the power shower full blast.
I got stuck in the rain many times. The first time I was climbing the old Auroville Road on a rickety bicycle. A few large drops announced what was coming. Three guys in lungis riding ‘triple’ on a motorcycle quickly parked by the side of the road and ran for shelter under the parapet of a building in construction. I abandoned the bicycle and followed them. They stepped aside giving me some space under the parapet. The four of us watched the rain in an awed silence. Then one of them lit a cigarette and they had a discussion in Tamil. I understood ‘taani’ and ‘maale’. They were talking about the rain. Quickly, small red streams of water tainted by the dark red earth formed and ran down the slope. The man with the cigarette threw the butt into one of these mini-rivers and I watched it being swept away. After ten minutes the rain stopped almost as suddenly as it had began. I waded through the red mud back to the bicycle. The air was warm and pleasant.
The second time I was in Pondicherry at the INTACH office on Sri Aurobindo Street. The sound of the rain beating against the roof and the window was very loud. But I was comfortable and dry inside and was enjoying reading up on the city’s heritage conservation project and browsing through before and after pictures of the many heritage properties which have been lovingly restored. It was still raining when I had finished my research. I spent some time looking out the window. The rain was pouring in streams off the roofs. Once in a while a motorcycle or bicycle whizzed by. I observed how people protected themselves from the rain: raincoat and umbrellas of course, but also plastic bags rolled into improvised hats. On motorcycles the passenger seated behind the driver would hold up an umbrella, protecting both passengers. But it was raining too hard to not get wet. Quickly the street became a small river. A rubber flip-flop floated downstream. A woman in a soaked sari waded through the water, carrying her footwear in her hands. A motorcycle sped by and she cursed loudly as water sprayed out in all directions, soaking her further. It was showing no sign of letting up so I decided I had to brave the rain. I rolled up my pants up to my knees and was grateful I had decided against wearing a churidar that morning. I zipped up my raincoat and put on the hood. I took my sandals in my hand and stepped into the calf-deep water. It was warm.
The third time I got stuck was at the Subramania Bharathi museum. It is closed. Indefinitely. Reason unknown. This is the information I gleaned from three men taking shelter with their bicycles on the veranda. While sitting out the rain, I took a few pictures:
Pondicherry had a sweet smell. It was because of all the Canaga trees which were in bloom. Their Ylang Ylang flowers lay in wet, scented carpets.
So I admit it: yes, the rains are romantic! In Pondicherry anyway.
I came home to a moldy house. The walls of the living room and the ceiling resemble a Jackson Pollack during a grey period. In one corner, there’s a huge patch of cracking and peeling paint. This is proof that this year’s monsoon was a good one. So good that it won’t go away… it’s now the end of the first week of October and the rains are not letting up. I wake to grey skies in the morning and the rain usually starts in the late afternoon with a few drops which eventually become a downpour.
It’s noticeably hotter than one month ago and the humidity in the air is palpable. The laundry doesn’t dry, and the drawers in my wooden chest of drawers must have somehow expanded because no matter how hard I tug, they will not open! I’ll have to wait for drier times before I can access their contents again.
I showed my landlords the artwork on the ceiling and they were quick to take action, calling in the builder to take a closer look at the cause of the problem. Most houses here have flat roofs which means that water seepage is a common problem. The roof needs to be waterproofed and the ceiling and walls repainted but this can only happen once the rains stop.
The cat doesn’t seem to mind the rain. She comes home in the middle of the night – soaking wet – and then tries to get in under the covers!
I noticed that Indians rarely talk about the weather… Not like they do in places like London or Brussels where this topic opens every conversation. This is usually a complaint about the rain. Here rain is very common and as a result, rainy weather is considered to be bad weather.
But everything is relative and on the other side of the world things are often reversed. I noticed that Indians only talk about the weather when it’s ‘good’. And here ‘good weather’ means rainy weather. Lately I’ve been hearing: “Pleasant weather we’re having!” on a daily basis. Cloudy skies and intermittent rain is not the idea of good weather I grew up with, but then again, everything is relative. After the four months of excessive heat we had from February to the end of May, I’m definitely not complaining about the cooler temperatures and sporadic showers. It’s nice to put the prickly heat powder away for a while and not rely on the ceiling fan to try to keep cool.
In India, the monsoon seems to be everyone’s favourite season. It’s also considered to be a very ‘romantic’ time. Again, rain is not high up on my list of most romantic things. Actually it doesn’t make the list at all. But judging by all the poems, songs and movie scenes dedicated to it, rain is very sexy in India.
Ask any Indian when’s the best time to travel to a certain place or city and they will inevitably answer: “During the monsoon.” Check any guidebook to India about the best time to visit and you’ll see that the period from June to September is not recommended and even strongly discouraged.
Indeed very few tourists come to India during the monsoon. But I have to agree that this is a great time to travel to India. First of all because they are few tourists. And as a result fewer crowds and more availability on buses and trains and at hotels. Banana pancakes disappear from menus and hotel rates become normal again.
Then there’s the beautiful lush green landscapes. The cool nights and freshness of early morning. The laughter of children playing in the rain. And that marvellous smell of fresh earth afterwards… Ah the romance of it all!
My friends often ask me what Christmas is like in India, and whether it’s celebrated. Christmas Day is an official holiday here, and it is celebrated by India’s Christian community – which makes up about 2.4% of the population – so that comes to 24 million people, which is more than the population of some countries in Europe!
For the past few days, some shops and restaurants have been displaying Christmas decorations. There are trees and decorations for sale. There are also street vendors selling Santa caps on the city's roads! In India, the tradition is to hang a big, colourful lantern in the shape of a star outside your house. These look beautiful when they’re lit at night. So I can tell which of my neighbours are Christian by the star lanterns hanging in front of their doors.
Being away from home is of course always a bit difficult at Christmas time. Many of my foreign friends have already gone home for the holidays. Others take advantage of the Christmas Break to travel. Schools will close for almost two weeks and many people are looking forward to the long weekend.
The advantage of being in India is that you can almost forget it’s Christmas. First of all, of course there’s no snow, and the weather is too warm. Overall Christmas is very low-key, without the commercialism which is overdone in the West. I admit that I don’t miss that aspect.
For this Christmas break, I decided to visit a state I have never been to and know little about. Also, I don’t want to go too far north because of the cold! So I’m heading to Madhya Pradesh. I have done some research and have learned that there are lots of interesting places to see. I’ll write about my impressions once I get back. In the meantime, Merry Christmas to all my readers!
This is my third summer in Bangalore and it’s by far the hottest. Summer had also come early this year. Temperatures had already reached the 30s in February and we still have a month to go before the monsoon arrives, bringing some respite to the heat. Temperatures have been topping 35 degrees every day. Sometimes it rains at night which brings some relief, but the heat comes back quickly. In North India, it’s far worse: Delhi reached a record temperature yesterday at 43.5 degrees while temperatures in Orissa have been as high as 47.
At the height of summer, daily life takes on a different rhythm. The day starts at dawn when the air is still cool. Indians are early risers; many are up by 5 or 6am when day is just breaking. This is when people like to take their morning walks, water the plants and do any household chores.
By 8 or 9 o’clock the heat starts to set in, peaking around midday. After lunch, many people like to take an afternoon nap. This is when I like to go to the shops if I need to pick anything up because they’re almost empty. The streets are also quieter at this time, with less traffic.
I often see auto-rickshaw drivers fast asleep in the back of their auto-rickshaws, strategically parked in a quiet shady street. White uniformed drivers also catch some sleep in their cars while they wait for their employers to summon them.
The street dogs spend most of their day curled up underneath cars, sleeping. The cats have also adopted this rhythm. They’re active in the early mornings. During the day they prefer to take shelter indoors or find a shady spot on the terrace and sleep until the evening when they like to roam outside until dawn.
After such a long, hot summer, the monsoon is eagerly awaited. In the meantime, we have another month of hot, sleepy afternoons.
For the past week, the weather has been hotter than usual. We really have fast-forwarded to summer! Temperatures have reached the mid-30s and it’s only February. Such temperatures are expected in the peak of the summer months of April and May, but not in February!
The city is noticeably quieter in the afternoons because everyone prefers to take shelter indoors with fans and air conditioners working non-stop. This extra demand for electricity means the daily power cuts are back with a new vengeance – up to four a day.
On the streets, watermelons are for sale – big piles of them stacked by the side of the road where they’re sold for 10 rupees a kilo. Vendors selling tender coconut water and sugar cane juice also have lots of customers. It looks like it’s going to be a long hot summer!
Above: another view from my kitchen windowAugust was an unusually wet month in Bangalore. Though rain is expected during the June to September monsoon season, the city received double the expected amount of rain in the month of August: the average is 147 mm. This year the city received 309.8 mm, with August 26th being the wettest day with 66mm of rain.
It poured rain almost every day, but mostly during the night, which was convenient. Of course this was very inconvenient for those who experienced flooding in some parts of the city – luckily my neighbourhood was spared. Though the flooding was inconvenient for some, it was no where close to the devastation experienced by some parts of North India during this monsoon season.
Though the monsoon is always enthusiastically welcomed in June, come September and many people are looking forward to ‘winter’ and the dry, sunny days ahead. For the past week or so it hasn’t rained at all and the monsoon seems to be waning now. Daytime temperatures are climbing back up to the 30s and though the sky is still mostly covered with cloudy patches, there are longer sunny spells throughout the day. The plants on the terrace need watering, the garden furniture can be taken out again and the laundry dries quicker!
Image courtesy of bri vos.It's been raining every evening for the past week or so, but the papers kept announcing that the monsoon was to "arrive soon". It seemed to me that it had already started, but apparently these rains were only 'pre-monsoon showers', as the 'official' monsoon traditionally starts on June 1st in the south-western coastal state of Kerala, before moving northwards.
After a week or so of this, today's The Hindu newspaper finally made it official: "Expect rain for five days a week in the next four months", read the headline. Accompanied by thunderclaps and strong winds, the south-west monsoon arrived in Karnataka on Saturday, just as the Meteorological Centre in Bangalore had predicted, three days ahead of its usual schedule. Having set in over coastal and south interior Karnataka, the monsoon will spread to north interior Karnataka in three days. The India Meteorological Department in Delhi on Saturday declared the arrival of the monsoon in Kerala and parts of Tamil Nadu and will officially declare the monsoon in the State on Sunday, said the Director of the centre in Bangalore, A. Muthuchami. Photo © The Times of India The onset of the monsoon is always eagerly awaited and then welcomed enthusiastically once it arrives after the heat and humidity of the summer months. But the rains also bring a fair share of problems with flooding, traffic jams and falling trees... Meanwhile, the monsoon entered with a characteristic bang in Bangalore. It rained continuously in the evening in many parts of the city. The lack of preparation by the city administration was reflected in the fact that almost all arterial roads were flooded, throwing the weekend traffic out of gear. Many residential localities reported flooding and rainwater entering the houses. Due to an overflowing storm water drain that cuts across the Kengal Hanumantaiah Double Road, traffic movement was almost blocked on this road. Flooded roads affected vehicular movement near the Dell office on Koramangala Inner Ring Road as well. Gusty winds that preceded the rains uprooted many trees. A huge tree was uprooted on Miller’s Road near CSI hospital blocking traffic for more than two hours... Summer is now over and the monsoon has officially begun. Tomorrow schools are due to re-open and a new academic year starts for students. It's time to dig out the umbrellas and watering the plants will no longer be a daily chore!
Image courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.
For the next four months most parts of the State, including Bangalore, can expect rain at least five days a week and a welcome break from rising temperatures, which are expected to dip to 28 degrees, said Dr. Muthuchami. The State would receive normal rainfall (82 cm) this monsoon in the next four months, he added...
After an unusually wet March with pleasant temperatures which were cooler than usual, summer has arrived with a bang! The mercury is rising with each passing day, hovering around the mid-to-upper 30s. The daily power cuts have started again now that fans and air conditioners are working around the clock.
The school holidays have begun and there seems to be a cricket game going on in every street as children are making the most of their time off.
Another sure sign of summer is the arrival of mangoes at the market! Lime juice and sugar cane juice sellers also have long lines of thirsty customers.
At the height of the afternoon the city takes a siesta while everyone sleeps the heat off!
The seasons in India seem to be in fast forward. The huge tree outside my window had lost all its leaves last month. The last leaf had barely fallen before I noticed new buds already appearing. In the space of 10 days the tree was in full bloom! The terrace is a shady oasis once again and the cats have come back to spend their afternoon siestas out of the sun. Temperatures now reach the 30s during the day but a gentle breeze keeps everyone cool and dry.
Bangalore is a riot of colours: bright pink, brilliant yellow, purple, red! Take a walk through the neighbourhood and enjoy the colours on offer:
