Here Comes The Rain Again!

I think we may now definitively say that the Monsoons have arrived.  Frankly I’m a bit disappointed; I thought the arrival would be more dramatic. It’s true that for the first couple of months after I arrived here in Bangalore we experienced almost no rain whatsoever, whereas now the likelihood of rain is ever-present. But I expected the change to be more black and white.  In old books I’ve read it was normal for characters to recall the exact date the rains started in any given year.

In reality it has been getting progressively cooler, wetter and windier for some weeks.  Although locally it has been fashionable to state with some sense of anticipation that the rain falling outside was just a precursor, ‘you wait; the real thing is yet to come!’ The truth is the change in the weather has been a gradual transformation.

I believe down by the coast, or even in some northern cities it is possible to mark a specific day as the start of the Monsoon. Up here on the Deccan plateau our weather is more complicated.  Right now the prevailing winds come from the west and no doubt much of the rain falls on the Western Ghats, the range of mountains that run from Gujarat in the north to Kerala in the south and separate the interior from the coastal strip.

And that’s another thing.  I’ve seen tropical or sub-tropical rain systems in Africa, Singapore and China.  In Guilin in Southern China, where I spent most of last year, it was officially named “The year of two Aprils” on account of the heavy Spring rains which persisted through  May and June and even into July.  In one memorable typhoon in Hong Kong a few years back, I saw the city’s famous red taxis floating down the streets of Wan Chai on flash floods.  I know what heavy rain is.  Yet so far I’ve seen nothing here that would be unusual in an English summer.  Actually I quite enjoy it, but rather than the torrential downpours I was expecting, we have had several days of soft light drizzle.

The thing is the Monsoon is a big talking point in India.  Even among the urbane coffee set and expats that I have mainly met, it is a regular topic of conversation.  The rains will be late this year. No they will be on time but lighter than usual.  No this is going to be a normal year.  And so on.  When the western Monsoon did finally arrive in Kerala on the southwest coast, Saturday June 1st for those who are interested, the country’s press trumpeted it loudly. “Southwest Monsoon Arrives in Kerala” said The Hindu, “Monsoon Rains Hit Southern Kerala Coast: Weather Official” beamed the Times of India.  From there the rains will now advance progressively up the country to Delhi

.

It matters.  In fact it matters enormously to the people here and to the whole Indian economy.  For me it places a question mark over my weekly game of golf and means that I no longer need to sleep with the aircon on.  Mid day temperatures in Bangalore now hover around 25 degrees Celsius instead of the high thirties which was standard back in April. But for almost a billion people it is literally the difference between feast and famine.

Around 70% of India’s population depends directly or indirectly on farming.  Agriculture makes up 14.5% of the country’s GDP.  In global terms India is both one of the biggest producers and consumers of food.  Most farms are rain-fed and have no other form of irrigation, yet 75% of the annual rainfall will come between June and September.  A weak monsoon or even drought damages the rural economy, affecting the country’s bottom line growth figures; it causes suffering among agricultural communities and can lead to civil unrest and political turbulence at national level.

No wonder then that so much national energy is spent on trying to mitigate the effects of the Monsoon.  The government’s Indian Council of Agricultural Research, including its facility here in Bangalore, puts a lot of effort into developing drought resistant strains of staple crops.  The Indian Meteorological Department is constantly tasked with developing better forecasting tools and producing early warning systems for droughts, which are now expected to occur at roughly five yearly intervals. No doubt much could also be done to conserve what precious supply of water exists.

In the long run however India needs to reduce its dependency on this annual event which is both unpredictable and outside its control.  India is proud of its status as a BRIC nation, and Indians are fond of announcing that this is the First World.  Yet surely, whatever development means it has to imply that a country has advanced to a level where political, social and economic success are not left to the caprice of the weather?

[P.S. Since I published this post almost 1,000 people have been killed in some of the worst flooding North India has experienced in years.  In Bangalore however, we are still waiting for some proper rain.]