There was a time when we called the monsoon month of Sawan by its name. In traditional lore, with its arrival, swings would appear in orchards. The air would be filled with the melodies of the kajri folk form and Raag Malhar. The Earth changed its attire as nature draped herself in a green veil.
Sawan meant relief and hope.
For farmers, Sawan is still Sawan. Even today, they call it by that name. Few other lives are bound to rain and drought as intimately as theirs. They await Sawan with particular longing. They know that the rhythm of cultivation changes with it.
Farmers know what the month means for paddy, maize, jowar, chana, black gram, cotton and other crops. Many of their festivals, too, fall in this month. There is Teej. There is Nag Panchami. The agricultural calendar and the Hindu ritual calendar have long lived together.
But we no longer inhabit that older sense of time. We now live within an official Hindutva calendar. It is no longer Sawan that begins but the auspicious month of Shravan. Every mention of Shravan must now be preceded by adjectives such as “holy, sacred or auspicious”.
Sawan has been stolen from ordinary people. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say...
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