In nature, seasons change and festivals the world over celebrate the change in seasons. Festivals are a melting pot of social and cultural traditions of different communities and ethnic groups and they are always celebrated against the backdrop of different seasons, while denoting the underlying resilence and toughness of Mother Nature; resilent yet yielding, tough and yet tender.
After the chills and desolate landscape of winter, the nascent sun, shines mild and gentle, bathing the budding earth with its brilliant orange tint. The blossom peeps out enquiringly, the early bird chirps. Nature is now in full bloom, the proud peacock dances, displaying its multi coloured plume. Spring is the season of rejuvenation and rebirth . The old order changeth, yielding place to the new. Even as old, dead leaves fall in woody heaps, trees cover themselves in a colourful canopy. There is celebration in the air: the mild fragrance of flowers invigorating the senses. There is celebration in nature, a dreary landscape slowly comes to life.
People, young and old, strong and the feeble join nature in her dance with joy and cheer. In north India, Basant Panchami and Holi celebrate the advent of spring in an aggressive flash of colour and wild abandon. In South India, the birth of Rama is celebrated in milder moods to the accompaniment of gentle devotional music. Music fills the air even as the heady, woody fragrance of the Sampangi and the Mallige permeate the senses engulfing all in their refreshing, scented fold.
It is a time of celebration , joy and gratitude. Gratitude for the bounties of nature uplifts the spirit which soars like a bird in the sky. There is hope in the heart and happiness in the visage. Seasons signify the constant flux of life: Winter is the season of death and destruction even as spring embodies fruitfulness and the hope of the human spirit.
The early mango and mallige vie with each other to sanctify the air. The Mysuru Mallige is like a queen welcoming all to her heady, fragrant bower even as the tart, pungent scent of the unripe mango heralds a season of abundant fruitfulness.
Fragrant hues are here, there and everywhere. They fill our mind and our senses as we chant the name of Rama and sing Bhajans in his praise. Colourful Pandals are gaily decorated with lights, with idols and pictures of the God, beecked in fragrant garlands of the season. Festivity is in the air and spirituality in the aura. The serenity and happiness that one experiences on hearing a Ramanavami concert In an open air venue, under the cool, summer sky and glistening stars is to be savoured. The air resonates with the vibes of like minded souls in a prayerful communion. In the words of Shelley,
As thus with thee in prayer in my sore need
Oh, lift me as a wave, a leaf, a cloud
I fall upon the thorns of life1 I bleed!
Like the poet, the languorous human spirit, along with nature, wakes up from a slumber deep and dreary to unify into a fierce spirited force to take on the tumults of life and become “ my words among mankind------- to unawaken’d earth”. Along with the West Wind, the human spirit becomes the trumpet of a prophecy- If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind.
