Monsoons in the Abode of Gods
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| Orange sky at night, tourist delight |
In Rajasthan—the land of warrior kings and sunbaked fortresses—water is a gift more precious than gold. And even Mount Abu, the jewel of the Aravallis, known both as the Oasis of the Desert and the Abode of Gods, must bow to the mercy of the monsoon.
The first showers of June arrive like a soft whisper, falling upon hills that have baked under a relentless sun. The charred slopes, still bearing the scars of summer fires, drink deeply. Within days, the brown gives way to emerald; the forest blooms as though Eden itself had been planted anew. The air smells of wet earth, and for the first time in months, the mountain breathes.
Then, on the first morning of July 2022, the true monsoon arrives—not with a single burst, but with a steady, daily rhythm. Some days the rain is a silver curtain, drifting gently through the valleys; on others, it is a roaring downpour, drumming against rooftops and swelling the rivers. Clouds sink low, brushing against the treetops as if in greeting. Waterfalls leap from the cliffs, streams begin their cheerful chatter, and the mist rolls in like a memory from the sixties. The entire mountain sighs with relief.
By the second of August, the lakes and reservoirs are brimming, their mirrored surfaces holding the promise of life until the next rains.
Gauge Report – Mount Abu
Tuesday, 2 August 2022
☔ Rainfall: 22 mm
🌧 Total Rainfall: 42 inches
Lower Kodra Dam 58'/59'
(1153.53/1188ML)
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| Lower khodra Dam an inch to overflow 3 Aug 2022 Per kind favour, Crescentia teacher, St Mary's school |
Upper Kodra Dam=28/33'
(302.4/414ML)
NAKKI LAKE=12.25/12.25Mtr
(1215/1215ML)
August is always the hill station’s month of joy—and this year, the rain gods have been generous. From across Gujarat and beyond, travellers arrive in colourful waves, drawn by the emerald hillsides, the foaming waterfalls, and the romance of walking through rain-washed streets with the scent of chai in the air. Independence Day week is a festival in itself, with every hotel and guesthouse filled to the brim. For the unprepared, finding a room is as rare as finding a clear blue sky in the middle of the season.
And yet, while tourists revel in the mist and monsoon magic, the people of Abu quietly long for one or two sunlit days, just enough to dry their clothes, warm their bones, and let the golden light kiss the hills again.
Until then, we live in a world painted in a hundred shades of green, under skies heavy with blessings—our mountain wrapped in the music of falling rain.
