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.”

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“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?”

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“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:

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‘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?”

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“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…”

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“… 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

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