Divas Aalapalliche

Alapalli took on a distinct appearance in every season. During summer, the village and the forest beyond the stream would lie parched and dry. But with just one spell of rain, the entire landscape would turn lush green, as though touched by a magic wand. Sometimes, the rain would pour continuously for eight days at a stretch. It was the rain of the forest, and even its downpour was wild in character. The earth and trees would drink their fill of water and become completely satiated. As the fragrance of wet soil spread through the air, the colour green would reach every nook and corner. Then the magic of nature would begin to enchant the eyes.

Except for the footpaths and roads, the dazzling variety of green hues was a feast for the eyes. Alapalli looked as though it had suddenly grown rich, draped in a beautiful silk sari woven from every imaginable shade of green—parrot green, lemon green, moss green, deep green and pigeon green—adorned with delicate patterns of wildflowers.

Along the slopes beside the roads, rainwater would collect to form large ponds. Huge frogs, so large that they could not fit into both hands, would inflate the pouches beneath their throats and begin croaking loudly. Swarms of monsoon swallows could be seen circling in groups at various places. Tribal children would gather in crowds to knock them down with pieces of cloth and collect them, intending to pluck their wings and prepare them as chutney.

During the month of Shravan, bright crimson, velvety insects would emerge from their underground burrows. Against the dark black soil, they looked as though vermilion had been scattered across the ground.