It will rain heavy. The clouds will come pouring with rain. But, when will the rain come? Contemplating silently, I worry for the places where the farmers have to sow the rice saplings, but they are dying in debt waiting for the rains. They, too, are searching for answers: when will the monsoons arrive?
Yonder, against the barren landscape, the crinkly-skinned naked children of the Adivasi village are sitting upon a rock, watching a flock of crows sitting on a tree. Not a leaf is moving; the hot air is motionless. The sky – though at a vast distance can be heard asking, ‘When will the rain come?’
Geeta Chhabra
