Another Season

~ Rajani Radhakrishnan

They said today, the monsoon will arrive in the first week of
June. Like it always does. We outlast summer because we know

the wet will come. We survive the rains because we know that
by Diwali, the clouds will begin their retreat. We get through the

festive season because the cold numbs our fevered brow. In April,
the first mangoes will ripen in the sun. There is always another

season. There is always another reason. One more transformation. One
more repetition. Our mortality is never in question as long as the variables

are constant. It is the unchanging that we fear. A forever downpour.
An endless summer. A predictable love. A world refusing to fall apart.

49 thoughts on “Another Season”

  1. I love the interplay between change and non-change. Dependable and unknown. I am left thinking that in today’s world, the boundaries between the two are blurring more. What was measurable and mark-able is no longer and what was unknown or unheard of is coming more into being. Strange Days.

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  2. It is constancy of the variables we depend on, not the unchanging singular. Beyond that way is dragon chaos. Like a poem finely rapt and spun, all its doors open while the rains keep falling. Great end of summer poem and happy to see it delved from the global South. I am constantly reminded how colonial my seasonal geography is.

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    1. Thanks Brendan… Yeah the seasons are different here and in India we get two monsoon seasons – first from the South West and then later in the year rain from the North East. I definitely enjoyed the 4 distinct seasons while on the US East Coast… !!

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  4. I HOPE the world refuses to fall apart! A wonderful poem, Rajani. The monsoon that never stops is a scary thought. Everything is in excess now. Stay safe.

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    1. Yes.. the effects are being felt everywhere… and with terrible consequences sometimes. We just had an unprecedented April cyclone in which many people sadly lost their lives.

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  6. I was thinking how beautiful your poem was and then the surprise ending “The world refusing to fall apart” kacknowledgin clearly that how we the world we know and trust is not always ging to be our friend and sustainer. I wish I had written it!

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    1. Yes, in so many ways we live with that knowledge. I wonder how it would be if things stayed unchanged forever- how we would be as people! Thanks Robin.

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  7. Just a couple of days ago, I was taking pictures of dead flowers in our community garden… A neighbor asked if I didn’t find the task a bit depressing, the garden looked so sad. I told her no. We live in circles, hope comes when we notice and appreciate the changes between the turns, when we remember that something else (that can be good) will come…

    Your poem made me think of that.

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    1. That’s a refreshing thought! But in this part of the world, hope is also a privilege. You can see the worst of the weather affect those who already have so little, that just survival is a huge battle they fight every single day. The world can be intensely unfair…

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  17. .” Our mortality is never in question as long as the variables are constant.”

    There’s simply no way to argue with the truth of this stellar line. Well done!

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  18. People’s spirits are easily ground down by that feeling of unchangingness, as sure as hard stone gets worn down into fine sand by the steady pummeling of the sea.

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  19. Let’s hope the world keeps refusing to fall apart. The dependability of the monsoons is comforting. Here in the rainforest, we had no rain all winter. Now we are having an occasional sprinkle and wildfires are already burning in the province. Most alarming. I loved your poem.

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    1. They’re not that dependable- the intensity is variable- there has been severe drought from failed monsoons and devastating floods as well… with horrible consequences. But people are dependent on the rains…

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  20. Rajani, your poem is a reminder that seasons are experienced differently in other parts of the world, especially in the way that the monsoon falls heavily in the opening lines and the idea of survival echoes throughout. In April we have blossoms while in your poem the first mangoes ripen in the sun, a delicious and beautiful image. I love the internal rhyme of ‘There is always another season. There is always another reason’, which sounds as if it is being muttered under the breath, and the list of three in the final line – a perfect ending.

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    1. Thanks so much, Kim. Yes the seasons are very different but the human experience of hope or despair is essentially the same, I think. The world outside our windows becomes the backdrop for our poems… but everywhere, I think we’re writing about the same feelings…and that makes it so much more beautiful!

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    1. Thank you, Sarah. The monsoon has always been a generous muse! After a torrid summer that truly reflects global warming… it will be very welcome this year.

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