Monday, April 14, 2008

A Delightful Orchestra

The afternoon wore on. The usually silent neighborhood was abuzz with the clamor of the kids playing under the hot sun. It simply signaled the start of the summer vacation. Not so for the already stressed out mothers; it signals a further increase in their blood pressure levels. However, for onlookers like me, the environment was as cheerful as it gets. All in all, it was a typical summer afternoon and idleness naturally invited its best comrade, Mr. Sleep.

However, a chain of events drove Mr. Idle and Mr. Sleep out of my mind. It started when I was able to sense her presence in the neighborhood. I rushed out to confirm my suspicions. The environment outside confirmed them. The air was very still and expectant. All greenery, from giant trees to the humble grass, was motionless and was looking up at the sky.

A fine artist knows the importance of ambience and she was no exception. The splendid virtuoso was dimming up the lights with the aid of dark gray clouds. Very soon, the ‘roof’ had changed its color from bright blue to a monotonous gray. A few of her admirers began to quiver with anticipation, but these elaborate arrangements were lost upon the blissful kids who were having hearty fun out of their games.

The prelude started off, giving the audience a demonstration of what was to follow. A series of low rumbles from the ‘roof’ above diverted the attention of the kids from their game to the sky. A few anxious faces peered out of their windows.

The mistress then changed gears: A bright flash indicated that the lighting effects were not abandoned. The deep growl that followed would have put the Dolby Digital Systems to shame. The effect of this demonstration had a great impact on the audience. While a few kids started to whimper, the bold ones began to clap gleefully at the supreme Maestro. The anxious faces at the windows scurried out of their homes to either order their kids indoors, or to collect the dried out clothes from the clothes-line. The vehicles on the streets found yet another reason to speed to their destination.

The overture was brief but effective. Large drops were showered down from the heavens, setting off the sweet smell of mud; the nasal senses of the audience were not forgotten either. The ground was wet within a few minutes, and the kids were nowhere to be seen now. The neighborhood was silent save for the splattering of the drops on the roofs and windows of the houses.

This brief demonstration was enough to captivate my senses. Deciding to pay my undivided attention to this wonderful performance, I pulled up my chair to the front door just in time to catch up with the accelerando. The drops were no longer large, but they came down in large numbers. Little pools began to form on the ground, and the whole arena was filled with the sound of this unexpected shower. The party time for her green comrades has just started.

The performance soon reached the crescendo. The stage was now filled with a dense screen of fine water droplets, filling the auditorium with a deep hum. The pools with dramatic increase in their volumes were now the sources for the innumerable streams that criss-crossed the ground.

A gifted musician is fully aware of the ill-effects of monotony. Just when I thought that the show was getting predictable, she threw in another fascinating member into the ensemble.

A powerful gale swept across the performance area, transforming the ordinary screen of the shower into a magical screen, a screen whose ever changing patterns made an interesting study. The green admirers having had their full joined the ensemble, dancing away to the tunes of the wind. Windows and doors were thrashed, trees swayed dangerously and I was constantly whipped with a spray, but none of these could deter me from missing the show.

However, all good things must come to an end, and I was painfully aware of the start of the decrescendo. The wind had lost its stamina, and the trees were swaying gently now, apparently tired after the wild celebrations. The pools were no longer able to source the spider-web streams and the shower screen was less opaque than before. Most disheartening was the perdendo, which marked the end of the show; the wind had died away, the trees were immobile again, the shower a mere drizzle now and light was now sneaking through the scattered light gray clouds.

My heart was crying out to request an encore performance, but my mind was fully aware that such requests will only go in vain. A fine virtuoso is almost always a proud one and requests for repeat performances will often go unheeded.

And thus I enjoyed an unexpected rain in late March. I have no idea in which genre this composition will fit into, but I was fortunate enough to have witnessed one in complete detail. My mechanized life often leaves me with little time to enjoy such spectacles, and I am deeply grateful to the marvelous vacation that I have enjoyed this March.