Chasing The Monsoon

“Mr. Andropov is the David Lean of monsoon productions – and this next torrential and thunderous triumph of raindrops will be his Lawrence of Arabia.”



“Eh… Jarvis – that is a terrible example. Lawrence has hardly a raindrop in it – it is all dry desert sand and hot desert sun!”


“So sorry, Sir. Um… How about The Bridge over the River Kwai, Sir?”



“Much better, Jarvis! Much better. Oh, and Jarvis, read young Drop here what you read me the other day from Frater’s book…”


“Oh, yes, Drop – this is from Chasing the Monsoon: A Modern Pilgrimage to India by Alexander Frater:



‘The first sounds I ever heard were those of falling rain. It was tropical, the kind that seems to possess a metallic weight and mass. It began bucketing down.’”


“Thank you, Jarvis. ‘A metallic weight and mass’ – is that not inspiring, young Drop? Imagine for you to be part of such a force?”



“It is inspiring, Sir. And I have been reading this book as part of my drop prep, Sir, and I have been entranced by the pure poetry of rain – how the Indians sing ragas and dance when the rains come and how people follow the rains from Thiruvananthapuram to Goa and then Bombay and then Calcutta…”



“… And then Cherrapunji where we do our curtain call – it is the place with the highest rainfall in India,” interjected Jarvis.

Mr. Andropov, by Karim Ajania, page 7