MAN - THE PREDICTABLE FOOL.

                    

    ‘So, how’s the weather in Hyderabad?’ a friend of mine recently emailed me. It is a universally acknowledged fact that when people have nothing else to talk about, they talk about the weather. And it is also a common and embittered truth that when people have nothing else to do, they complain.

    ‘WELL, IT’S VERY HOT’ my mail read. It had an undisguised grumble, coating every word of the crisp but factual reply that I sent back. ‘Its hot here too’, she mailed back from Delhi, the whining in her mail, even more prominent than mine. ‘It seems the ozone layer is slowly peeling off or something and the sun is coming down lower and lower every year.’ ‘Is it?’ I wrote back. ‘Maybe something to do with global warming or pollution or nuclear weapons or whatever. But the boiling temperature, really! It’s too much.’ ‘Yes’, she wrote back. ‘It’s not fair. And on top of all that, we have these power cuts so often that even the coolers and the Aircons do not work. I mean, how much heat can a person stand?’     

     When even complaints start to fail, people helplessly turn their faces towards the Heavens. And apparently, the one who resides there has to bow down to our humble requests. Not because my friend or me would have melted without the coolers or the Air conditioners, but because He probably felt that the heat waves had had their fair share of upsurge this year. Thousands of living creatures had already been enveloped into their intense sweltering folds. Therefore, after a longwinded spell of dry passion, on the 10th of June, 2003, He finally decided to part the skies. And yesterday, the relentless tears from the blue cheeks of Heaven, at long last came gushing down.

     Everyone was thrilled! The cooler that cooled our bodies and the air conditioner that conditioned our minds for the past few months, now suddenly seemed obsolete. Since none can ever outgrow childhood, my six- year old doggie Champagne and the forty plus me, immediately ran out with gay abandon to welcome the first shower of the season. I know it sounds crazy but sometimes these simple and outmoded forms of entertainment, actually give so much more pleasure than munching popcorn.

       But in the excitement to contact the parched earth of the twin cities, the winds and the rains caused a lot of havoc, disturbing the cables, the electrical poles, the wires and the trees and many parts of the State were plunged into darkness. The old city roads got flooded. Surging waters had the drivers wading through the momentary streams. Every gap in the city got transformed into a puddle. And every puddle became a splashing joint.  Yet no one was complaining. Not even me, whose next job (after dancing in the rain) entailed scrounging for vessels to be placed at strategic points in every room, to try and gather as much rainwater as possible. This type of rain harvesting should in no way be compared to the innovative scheme of Mr. Chandrababu Naidu. In fact, it is just an additional exercise for the Railway Officials and their families for agreeing to put up establishments inside mammoth sized, antiquated, Colonial sieves – or Railway Bungalows, as some would politely like to call them as. 

     But just like the first kiss, however clumsily executed, is always cherished, the first fruit of any season, however bitter, also tastes sweet. It is only with time and familiarity that the thorns of irritation start to prick. And Man with his varying preferences and unpredictable predilections, soon starts to view even the rosiest of pictures with a discontented vision. I know that because I too am only human. And I have experienced these sentiments year in and year out.

     I also know for a fact that soon I will start receiving mails like ‘It’s so disgusting, yaar, really. One can’t even hang out the clothes outside. Everything is so moist and soggy and limp. And my son’s asthma has increased and my father’s arthritis has worsened and my mother-in-law’s rheumatic knees are swollen. And frankly speaking, I really miss the sun.’

    And most probably I will send back a reply in accordance with those views. Plus additional reflections of my immediate state of mental depression- of the leakings in the roof, the fungus in the dals, the dampness in the walls, the squishiness in the streets, the weeding in the garden, the nuisance of the insects, the menace of the reptiles, the annoyance of the drizzle, the dangers of the winds, the risks of lightning, the perils of the storms, the threat of the floods, the hazards of the cyclone and the……..In short, a lengthy account of the tribulations of a damp and disgusting monsoon season. For as I very appropriately read somewhere-

                                        “As a rule, Man is a fool

                                      When it’s hot, he wants it cool

                                      When it’s cool, he wants it hot

                                       Always wanting what is not!”    

 

                                                                    Nargis Natarajan.