The air cools rapidly, and the light dims as boiling, heavy clouds boil over the landscape. The breeze builds rapidly into a wind, whipping up the summer dust, lashing the palm fronds into a frenzy. The first huge drops splash upon the parched ground.
Every sense is overwhelmed: the ears by the thunder, the eyes by the strange,dim light from behind the massing clouds, and the lightning that dances across them, or that lances to the ground; the skin by the feel of the rain, the nose by the aroma of wet earth… that incomparable fragrance that fills the air.
We raise our eyes to the heavens, and give thanks for the life-giving showers.After the torrid summer, the monsoon is here.
Here’s one song describing the arrival of the monsoon, and the eager wait for it.
The last few seconds depict, too. how disappointing (and cataclysmic to the farmer) it can be when the rains fail.
(PS I find the brand-new clothes and the over-clean village very unrealistic!)