This was Neelamma’s time.
“Come in,” Neelamma said, not as a question. coorg best season
They heard the deep, croaking call of a frog, the drip-drip-drip from a leak in the corner that Neelamma had placed a brass pot under, creating a gentle plink like a temple bell. They watched the steam rise from their coffee mugs. This was Neelamma’s time
Back inside, she would light a fire in the hearth. Not for the cold—Coorg in the monsoon was a soft, pleasant 22 degrees—but for the light. She’d make a pot of kadumbutt (rice dumplings) and a spicy pork curry, the aroma mixing with the smell of wet wood and burning coffee husks. The sound was a symphony: the hiss of the curry in the pan, the crackle of the fire, and the endless, percussive roar of the rain on the tin roof. They watched the steam rise from their coffee mugs
They stayed for three days. When the road was cleared, they left, tanned not by the sun, but by the grey, beautiful light. The young man turned back at the gate. “I understand now,” he said. “The brochure was wrong.”
The best season in Coorg, they say, is between September and March. The tourists read this in their glossy brochures and book their flights for December, dreaming of crisp, clear skies and the famous Coorg hospitality. They come in packed cars, their laughter loud, their itineraries tight. They see the golden light on the rolling hills, sip their coffees, and leave, satisfied.
Her husband, Ganapathy, had called it the “green thunder.”