Summer

3 Jun

Did you know Time bought himself the latest Lamborghini and is painting the world of Time red? I’m sure you’ve seen him zip past. I’m sure the next time I see him, which won’t be too far off, it’ll be October 2020. Not, I hope. Sigh. It’s June, folks! June. JUNE. Like the sixth month of a year that has just twelve indicating we’re reaching the half-past mark at a pace none of us expected. Right? Yeah well, do you still love the Lamborghini as much?

June came too fast. It wasn’t long ago when I was awaiting the arrival of May with great excitement and longing. May was filled with everything every month should be filled with – family meetings, reunions, birthdays, celebrations, arrivals and of course lots of catching up, food, laughter and madness. May was filled with what I can describe as the only summer love I’ve known all my life.

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We’ve been blessed with abundant mangoes, litchis, peaches and mango-milkshake-moustaches. It’s been the season of much gluttony of a childhood kind; no questions asked, no heat boils counted. Mangoes rule, litchis prevail, peaches reign. There are just no two ways about it.

Summer walks, travel and rides at dusk make the perfect companion; even in silence. They’ve been abundant and abundantly welcome too. There have been storms of a fierce summer kind that put you in your place and shut you up when you open your mouth to talk about the heat. There have also been uproars of a thunderous kind which tell you to shut up, period. And then there have been power cuts, candlelit games, adrak (ginger) chai (tea) sessions and conversations in shadows. There have been the most beautiful sunrises the mornings after. There have been steaming cups of filter coffee and homemade cookies, mango tea and cinnamon rolls and conversations in between claps of thunder of course.

There’s always a magic in summer; in the way it shows up and transforms everything around it; in the way it takes the world by storm without really saying a word. Summer is a rainbow of every colour, every mood, every sound, every experience. There’s calm and quietude as flowers bloom at dusk and there’s the din of the sky opening up above. There’s the cruelty of parching heat and the apologies of torrential rain. There are butterflies, rain ants and moths. There is always the struggle to survive with a ladder and a jug of water right at the end. There is always summer.

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