A maddeningly elusive phenomena
The exact date of arrival of the
Great Indian Monsoon and then
The intensity of the rainfall becomes
A source of trepidation, anticipation
And even exasperation when it falls
Short of expectations and outside the
Normal Averages calculated state-wise
Or pure misery when it exceeds the normal
Ranges in any of the flood prone regions
Yet year after year the weather pundits
Get into a huddle to make their predictions
Which are more often than not way off the mark
But that does not stop them from pontificating
Airing their views and misleading the farmers
I often wish they would get out of the business
And let the Gods decide on when, where, and how much....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem