Summer

I am almost nonchalant about summer. As long as the power cuts are not driving me crazy. I don’t get much exasperated by heat. If I can stay away from roads of Kolkata and its buses I can happily suffer summer.

 

To me summer means my childhood days, the strict instructions from adults to not venture out in sun, to avoid sunstroke. We just waited for mom to fall asleep, and then were out in the garden. Sometimes stuffing ourselves with pickles, tamarinds or fruits from trees and sometimes running barefoot on the burning pavement to catch the kulfiwala.. the ice-cream man.

 

Summer noon in UP meant absolute silence, it was so hot that even birds did not made sound, sometimes a crow cawed breaking the silence, that’s all. The only sound we could hear in those three or four hours was the bells of the kulfiwala, braving the summer sun for livelihood.

 

The summer of west Bengal is romantic if you live in a small town, with trees and birds around you. People take a siesta because the humidity makes them drowsy. The noon are silent, all you will hear is birds calling. The doves calling their mates in a sleepy tone or crows and bulbuls calling out. In Toto it’s a dreamy atmosphere. To be felt from the very depth of heart.