After a month of good monsoon as I drive through a Ghat, what meets my eyes first are the orgasmic greens. The flora is dripping with happiness after the long dry spell. A constant drizzle keeps the wipers of my car busy as rows of water droplets gather onto the windshield like little children queuing up briefly and dispersing the very next moment. As I look around I see rivulets that have sprung almost instantaneously as water seeps through the crevices of rocks to form a steady trickle. In some places it gathers enough mass and progresses to become a water fall. I see flocks of delighted people stopping by to wet their desires. Eager limbs ache excitedly to take a dip into every possible source of water like impatient souls greedily grabbing the elixir. How starved we are of such innate urges! The soothing sound of water falling, splashing and flowing drenches my occasionally parched soul. Every other water body however tiny like a puddle, fancy like a fountain or big as the ocean is a brimming source of bliss to us.
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