Summer days of Yore

Summers, especially if you are a kid in India, should hold so much of your memories as it does. Its the hottest time of the year, and for many parts of the country, its just basically the same as the rest [My brother in Chennai would agree]. And yet, these months that come after the winter chill has vanished, and before the monsoon decides to wash away this land, somehow, manages to hold each of our imagination. It plants itself in our memories forever, refusing to let go. And I guess this time, the heat has got to my head. I can't see any other reason why I would decide to write this post. Except this post that brought back old memories..

*** I think this is going to be a long post. Leave now, or grab your glass of chhass, sit back, and enjoy ***

Summers, according to me, can be classified in many ways, some of which I display below. 150 possible combinations I see.

Classifying Summer

Now, of course I mention these because I have lived through all these. And until I made this table, it never struck me how versatile life has been.

Lunch @ 5

The lunch was always a quick affair,

Tucked between returning from school

And leaving for the tuition on the pretty little bike.

The tiffin at school was heavier,

The evening snack, healthier, familiar.

The lunch, the ignored meal of the day.

With our feet running the rat race,

The laptop bag digging into the shoulder,

There are no more mid-day tiffins.

Mother no longer serves the evening snack,

Or maybe she does, and I'm no longer home.

Fighting off competition, and my own demons.

Breakfasts are now hurried,

Dinners gobbled up at midnight,

And Lunch, it's now @ 5.

Disclaimer:

Poem nahi hai khaas to hate to mat karo yaar,

Abki bar....... Dhurrrr Burbak!

[UNTITLED]

I was right here,

Loved, even revered.

Just the other day,

I could hear her sing, see them laugh.

I would read,

read the clouds in the sky outside.

The window,

my window to the world,

the voices outside,

the cars, the buses, the squealing of the horn,

outside.

I was here too, you know,

correcting papers,

laughing, being merry.

The kids, I loved.

For my parents, I lived.

My love,

He was far away.

Yet, always close.

Love was the drug,

and now it's the poison.

I see them all outside,

with my closed eyes.

I can feel the winds changing,

the girls getting ready,

in their yellow saris.

The time to celebrate is soon,

and celebrate they will.

My absence,

forgotten soon.

But the marks will remain,

always, forever.

I am here today,

looking, not seeing.

I look with vacant eyes.

The love I see,

the sorrow washes over me.

I am here, I am now.

Tomorrow, I will be gone.

Gone forever, from their sight.

Maybe not, from their mind.

I will be loved, even revered,

right here, forever.

Towards the light....