But the warmth does not last. The sun turns into a god of fire. The earth cracks. The rivers become thin, silver threads. The wind feels like a hot breath from an oven. This is the season of Loo – the scorching winds that make people stay indoors with blinds drawn. Water becomes sacred. You see earthen pots ( matkas ) hanging from ropes, keeping water cool for thirsty travelers. The mangoes ripen. Markets fill with the scent of dussehri and alphonso mangoes. At night, people sleep on rooftops under a blanket of stars, fanning themselves, waiting… always waiting for the one thing that will save them.
The story begins with a sigh of relief. The harsh winter chill has faded. The sun feels warm, not angry. In the north, the mustard fields turn into a golden ocean. In the south, the jasmine vines burst into tiny white stars that smell like heaven. Holi, the festival of colors, arrives. People throw pink and yellow powder—celebrating the end of winter, the harvest, and the playful love of Krishna. Spring in India is a short, passionate affair. It is the poet Kalidasa’s favorite season, a time when even the mango trees grow heavy with sweet, fuzzy blossoms. seasons and months in india
Months: Jyeshtha (May-June) & Ashadha (June-July) But the warmth does not last