The Monsoon Delight

There was always something about the monsoon season of Kerala. I have shared some of the photos of the season now and then either on Facebook or on one of my blogs. Monsoon and the love for rain goes a long way back through the memories. It used to be something not that much loved when beginning on the same day on which the schools re-opened. But that was never what the monsoon was really about. Monsoon was a delight, and the season was special.

It has the special power of rejuvenation, and along with growing those beautiful thoughts to full strength, the emotional side is easily awakened. It has been what monsoon could manage during its favourite months of glory. When you look at the rain drops, it is more like a shower of memories rather than the water that is drained away from the higher realms. It is the choice of the God of Rain, and the direct effect is on our feelings more than the Earth eagerly awaiting the drops.

So to these memories that come down during the monsoon, on a day of full showers in June 2065, I shall sit at the balcony, remembering the day which I proposed in 2015 – a day which is yet to come looking at the situation from this portion of the timeline. It would be another rainy day, not of monsoon, but of the summer showers, giving the life to nature and all hopes which were gone down in the dust and heat that had replaced the less effective winter which had died a slow death.

The proposal there has to take place during the rain. With love in each drop of rain, I would have to wait for the time when she arrives. What is it that the the beauty of rain cannot be, other than a beautiful setting which can summon an even bigger moment of eternal beauty, which can be remembered forever? I would wait for her in the rain, on the Honda Dio, as she would come from a distance with the blue umbrella. There would be thunder and lightning in the sky, but none like those in my heart.

There are seeds that need water, and can love be one of them? After having tea from the nearby tea shop, I shall wait, in hope to have another glass of tea, and may be have the elixir of life with her for a lot of other occasions. There is no need for background music, because the songs of rain are far more advanced and enjoyable than any other, and the visuals of thunder in the sky can claim more brilliance than any other thing of visual splendour.

Well, it has to come right out of the heart, or else it wouldn’t feel right. But I would expect the rain to help me on this. There have been many occasions when the rain has inspired me – it has ruined many outdoor games and travel plans, but has never been short of inspiration. So, it is my privilege to propose just after the next thunder strikes, and with that I would have said those words which I have never said before, even for fun. What will the rain say about that?

Yes, love has all the power to be a rewarding feeling, and rain has always been a rewarding factor – that is one strong and worthy combination. It brings back the best of the memories which will be set on fire again during 2065, exactly fifty years after the day of this proposal. Love is often like a river that runs wild, but so are memories, and there is no need to teach rain about the quality of being wild. May the rain inspire more love stories than any other and let it purify each instance of romance. Lets Blog and believe in #SoundOfLove.

I am participating in the #SoundOfLove activity atBlogAdda in association with Bluestone

TeNy

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Love at the Cemetery

As I had mentioned earlier in more than one blog posts, I have never proposed or came close enough to doing the same. I have preferred to the loner. But as time flies, I only get older and almost everyone around me are getting married. May be it is time I decide to do that because the sands of time is not a renewable resource – sands are available in the desert, but not that sands of time, as they disappear like cricket balls when AB de Villiers bat during the final overs of a cricket match.

So, the question remains about where to propose. My normal preference would be the badminton court or with tea, but there has to be something even more special about it as I think further. I have received flowers on my car on a Valentine’s Day during the last year of my college, and that was the only incident that had any interesting touch to any February the fourteenth. But that had nothing to follow, and I when I think about a proposal on a Valentine’s Day, I go further – I travel deeper and higher, both ways.

That takes all of us to the location. The church cemetery. Yes, this would clearly degenerate my value on any matrimonial website, but that is a risk I am willing to take. I shall gladly take the zombie-vampire rating for my wedding because I would care less if my bride chooses to be one; it is all about personal choices. She can even be a werewolf if she wants to, and in that case, may be I can choose a cave for the second stage of proposal.

After all, it is all about being innovative and different. I don’t see the point in being similar. Doing it like others has never been my method of working. Yes, I have tried to be like others due to the comparisons that have been made by my relatives and other so called well-wishers, but I have gone beyond that. Those were the teenage days, and I am not ready to go back to the cursed times. There is no longer the need to be like others and do like what the rest of the world do.

If I say that I choose to be crazy in love, there will be people who come up with the opinion that I have never been sane. Yes, with the chance of that insanity title bestowed upon me, I choose to propose in that graveyard. Which church graveyard? The one near my mother’s ancestral parish church. Why there? Because it is further away from the church and is located near a small, old and beautiful chapel dedicated to Saint Antony, my patron saint – and that should be only fair.

The blessings will be abundant from the chapel, and what comes along with the same is the hope to take it to the grave and from there towards eternity as whoever goes to the other world first shall look down like in Dante Gabriel Rossetti’s The Blessed Damozel and think straight into the other world like in Edgar Allan Poe’s The Raven. One with the angels which take forms to travel in this world and the other with the raven who connects the other world, the connection shall always be there with a proposal made in the cemetery.

I don’t think that she will mind at all, because she is as weird as I am, even though I doubt if the title of being “the strangest among the stranger ones” can be shared. I wouldn’t expect her to think that this is going to happen in such a way, but there comes the surprise, the craziness that comes as the side-effect. There are not many stranger things than love, and then there is this proposal at the cemetery which contributes to the madness with beauty and love. Lets┬áBlog for #SoundOfLove.

I am participating in the #SoundOfLove activity atBlogAdda in association with Bluestone

TeNy