When the wind blows, everything else stops

When the wind blows, everything else stops

It’s July and time for the windy month, when the breeze is stiff and steady. This normally comes after the city gets its first installment of the south-west monsoon. The sky is still laden with huge fluffs of clouds, hurrying over the city in a south-westerly direction.

These grey-white cumulus masses, however, seldom bear any rain during the season, which is called the Aashada.

The trees, which have turned green and lush again after their bare summer looks, sway laboriously from one side to the other, apparently waving to the wind, beseeching it to stop teasing them.

The crow faces the headwind and is forced to change its course midway, the kite’s glide is disturbed, the cyclist pushes the pedal hard but doesn’t move even an inch as he struggles to overcome the strong wall of wind.

This breezy Aashada obstacle is not merely literal, making physical movement difficult, but is a stumbling block for practically everything in life in the city.

For, during this inauspicious period, few Bangaloreans dare embark on any activity. Weddings are put off, building constructions are not taken up and business ventures put on hold.

The only thing that moves during this period seems to be wind.

The period gives the Bangalorean an excuse to what he likes best: doing nothing and procrastinating. It’s time for him to enjoy status quo and wallow in his comfort zone without being pushed and prodded, for all decision making is barred for the duration of this phase.

The house owner can’t get the adamant tenant to vacate. The occupant can put off the distasteful task of house-hunting for some more time.

With important purchases forbidden during the period, the man of the house can keep his bank balance intact for a longer duration. And the clerk at the government office keeps your file pending till the end of season or till you reach the end of your tether.

The city submits to season and period without complaint. People get on with their lives, taking the curbs in their stride. During this season, the city adopts the course it knows best, the path of least resistance.

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The New Indian Express
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