This text was written for Facebook in India, Himalayas
The Roar of Rainy Season
by Dmitry Danilov
Over many years of personal practice and teaching yoga, I have visited India countless times. These were individual trips, when I was wandering through India for months. Often, we traveled together with my yoga students. Historically, it so happened that very often our trips fell precisely during the rainy season. A period when it could rain for days without stopping.
The concentration and power of precipitation largely depend on the place of stay. Sometimes it’s “heavy rain”, but it can also happen that you can burn under the sun rays for several weeks without a single cloud.
In the Himalayas, summer rains are usually particularly impressive. Water flows from everywhere: it falls from the sky, rushes in the river, streams down the slopes, washes away roads, tears off pieces of rocks and carries them down into the valley with a mudflow. You stand in the water, water flows over you, you breathe water – it is everywhere.
Especially in the Himalayas during the rainy season, Indian goddesses become understandable. They are not cute forgiving creatures, no. They are different – roaring with a trembling squeal, knocking down trees and bridges in their path. The earth opens up, stones fly from everywhere. There is nowhere to hide. What you are standing on can go down, what you are driving can collapse into the river, where you spend the night can be washed away by a landslide suddenly coming from the mountains.
At this moment, realizing your insignificance, you stop holding on to your little ahaṃkāra, completely surrender, merge with the power surrounding you. Fear goes away, you fill with strength, a spark of daring courage and understanding of what to do next. Looking into the face of the enraged element, you involuntarily see Kali dancing in a wild dance. You greet the Black one and from a witness you become a participant in what is happening. A spark appears in your eyes and you begin to notice not only her terrifying forms, but also others.
You pay attention to the tender enveloping haze, to the softness of the air, to the pleasant coolness in the hottest season of the year. The eyes are pleased with the freshness of mountain streams, which playfully, jumping and not noticing you skillfully bypass each pebble, striving down. You want to look at and drink such silvery fresh water at the same time. It is alive, it condenses and fills with strength – greetings to you, the maiden of the mountains Parvati!
The rumbling of thunder, gusts of wind, pouring rain from above, rivers swelling with bloody clay, – power, not tolerating obstacles, rushing, sweeping everything in its path. She is a warrior, removing the bonds of people in her path, she is a mother – bringing fertile soil to the begging river valleys. Greetings to you, Mother Durga!
The chthonic forces of moisture do not sleep. Clothes, cars, houses, shops, everything is soaked with moisture. It is impossible to hide from it. The skin wrinkles. The body gets cold. Food loses its former elasticity. Wherever you go, everywhere you can smell the dampness and fungus, and in your head there is only one warming fantasy about a tarred hearth, crackling logs and bright warming tongues of flame. This dream is not eternal, it evaporates when you go out again and return to the damp reality. Greetings to you, yogini Chamundi!
Seeing the universe playing with you, a piece of consciousness somehow wants to capture all this diversity of life poured around transforming you. The hand reaches for the camera, you shoot everything that touches and catches the eye. On one of such trips, I wanted to put all the footage during the monsoons into a single video that would reflect the entire range of experiences and this natural phenomenon. This moment has finally come. For those who want to enjoy, and for many to reminisce, I present to your attention the video “The Roar of the Rainy Season”
