Chapters (53)
- Cover
- Khushwant Singh
- COLLECTED NOVELS
- Books by the Same Author
- Introduction
- Train to Pakistan
- Dedication
- Dacoity
- Kalyug
- Mano Majra
- Karma
- I Shall Not Hear The Nightingale
- Dedication
- Please Read This Note Before Reading the Novel
- Characters in the Story
- Chapter I
- Chapter II
- Chapter III
- Chapter IV
- Chapter V
- Chapter VI
- Chapter VII
- Chapter VIII
- Chapter IX
- Chapter X
- Chapter XI
- Chapter XII
- Chapter XIII
- Delhi
- Dedication
- Delhi
- Lady J.H.T.
- Bhagmati
- Musaddi Lal
- Bhagmati
- The Timurid
- Bhagmati
- The Untouchables
- Bhagmati
- Aurangzeb Alamgir: Emperor of Hindustan
- Bhagmati
- Nadir Shah
- Bhagmati
- Meer Taqi Meer
- Bhagmati
- 1857
- Bhagmati
- The Builders
- Bhagmati
- The Dispossessed
- Bhagmati
- A Note from the Author
- Footnotes
It is not surprising that much of India’s art, music, and literature is concerned with the monsoon. Innumerable paintings depict people on roof tops looking eagerly at the dark clouds billowing out from over the horizon with flocks of herons flying in front. Of the many melodies of Indian music, Raga Malhar is the most popular because it brings to the mind distant echoes of the sound of thunder and the pitter-patter of raindrops. It brings the odour of the earth and of green vegetation to the nostrils; the cry of the peacock and the call of the koel to the ear. There is also the Raga Desha which invokes scenes of merry-making, of swings in mango groves, and the singing and laughter of girls. Most Indian palaces had specially designed balconies from where noblemen could view the monsoon downpour. Here they sat listening to court musicians improvising their own versions of monsoon melodies, sipping wine and making love to the ladies of their harem. The commonest theme in Indian songs is the longing of lovers for each other when the rains are in full swing. There is no joy fuller than union during monsoon time; there is no sorrow deeper than separation during the season of the rains.
An Indian’s attitude to clouds and rain remains fundamentally different from that of the European. To the one, clouds are symbols of hope; to the other, those of despair. The Indian scans the heavens and if cumulus clouds blot out the sun his heart fills with joy. The European looks up and if there is no silver lining edging the clouds his depression deepens. The Indian talks of someone he respects and looks up to as a great shadow; like the one cast by the clouds when they cover the sun. The European, on the other hand, looks on a shadow as something evil and refers to people of dubious character as people under a shadow. For him, his beloved is like the sunshine and her smile a sunny smile. He escapes clouds and rain whenever he can and seeks sunnier climes. An Indian, when the rains come, runs out into the streets shouting with joy and lets himself be soaked to the skin.