Sugarcane juice bubbles up to the brim of the glass. It's as though churned right out of the ocean- the same greenish-yellow tint and freckled with froth and foam! A couple of ice cubes bob up and down as you raise it to your lips. If ever there was amrita...nectar, it has to be this! Saturated with sweetness, with a dash of lemon and ginger, the icy-cold concoction soothes your entire being. The relief is instant.
For outside, it's a raging inferno. The afternoon sun shows little mercy.
Man and animal scurry for cover...to find that elusive patch of shade. Even the crow is silent. Dust billows from the deserted streets......and scatters all over like volcanic ash. The whole world is on fire. Welcome to the great Indian Summer!
But then, sitting inside the dark environs of the wayside shop, with each sip of cool sugarcane juice, it is a feeling of total fullness. You are suddenly at peace with the world, raging though it be, and with yourself!
Happiness is a strange fellow. He conceals himself behind contrasts, behind opposites. To know the happiness of a free life, ask him, who has spent a decade in prison. The happiness of one peaceful day, ask him....who is ravaged by war. To experience the ineffable pleasure in a sip of cold-drink, in one scoop of ice-cream, get roasted in the Indian summer!
Happiness is a quirky little fellow. He is stingy to the extreme, and reveals himself in a tiny trickle, never in a torrent. You sit in the US, with the fridge stashed with buckets of ice-cream, of every possible flavor. It goes totally unnoticed. Three months elapse. Mold and fungus take over. Without batting an eyelid, you dump it whole...in the garbage. It is a problem of plenty. It spoils you- there is no happiness! Rewind now.....to that one choco-bar you savoured as a kid, on a hot summer day. A second one, well, you never asked for it, since it was usually beyond one's budget! As you twirled the choco-bar, this way and that, and watched its chocolate shell crumble in your tongue, it was not just ice-cream you enjoyed, but dollops of happiness too!
Summer is....a kaleidoscope of memories! What about that summer, eons ago, when you competed with your sister over a mango-shake. How you faked finishing off your glass, and waited till she was done with hers. And then, with mischievous delight, you now flashed your glass, still filled to the brim! And while she looked on longingly, how you prolonged the agony endlessly, one sip at a time, with visible relish, all the time scrutinizing the remaining level of the shake...by the ounce!
And that summer afternoon, when the entire neighborhood kids ransacked the kitchen in one home, (much to the consternation of the lady of the house) as part of a mega ice-cream making project! How after much custard-stirring and accompanied spillage, it was finally hauled into the freezer. The endless wait for the custard to solidify, with repeated checks- how collective impatience finally brought closure to the growing frustration! The 'ice-cream' still tasted immensely divine....despite having to be drunk off the cups!
And those summer memories, of travel by train in the month of April. It blazed its way through Wadi, Raichur....and places straight out of a furnace! Sitting by the window, the throat was parched and the tongue chalk-dry. And the stop at a nondescript station, when the hawker held up a bottle of Cola....tantalizingly against the face. Ice-water dripped off the base of the bottle, and the sides, pocked with diamond-like beads of condensed-vapor! How you looked back expectantly...piteously...at your stern father...... for that one nod of approval!
Yes, summer is oppressive- it is humid and sticky or unbearably dry. Yes, the electricity plays truant for most parts of the day. You are vexed and you express your irritation. But that instant, that instant....when the current is back....and the fan makes an audible grunt...and whirs into action....the thrill, the happiness.... is for keeps!
The Indian summer and exams are inseparable. It is the season when students suddenly turn overly studious and religious too! As each exam comes to a close, the anticipation of a full two-month vacation takes over. The start of the grand summer vacation- ask those students how they feel. Happiness, that slimy fellow, gives up his miserliness for a change, and pours his heart out with abandon.
No one celebrates summer like we do- it's the time for lassi topped with generous cream, of delicious kulfi at the beach, of the mango in all its variety, of ice-cold rose-milk and jigarthanda, of sleeping on the terrace by night, of curling up with a book the whole day, of lazy mornings and leisurely walks, of a drugged siesta in the muggy afternoons, of matinee shows and back-to-back mindless movies.....and finally....the pulsating excitement of the IPL circus!
Summer is upon us! Come, let's enjoy this summer to the hilt!
For outside, it's a raging inferno. The afternoon sun shows little mercy.
Man and animal scurry for cover...to find that elusive patch of shade. Even the crow is silent. Dust billows from the deserted streets......and scatters all over like volcanic ash. The whole world is on fire. Welcome to the great Indian Summer!
But then, sitting inside the dark environs of the wayside shop, with each sip of cool sugarcane juice, it is a feeling of total fullness. You are suddenly at peace with the world, raging though it be, and with yourself!
Happiness is a strange fellow. He conceals himself behind contrasts, behind opposites. To know the happiness of a free life, ask him, who has spent a decade in prison. The happiness of one peaceful day, ask him....who is ravaged by war. To experience the ineffable pleasure in a sip of cold-drink, in one scoop of ice-cream, get roasted in the Indian summer!
Happiness is a quirky little fellow. He is stingy to the extreme, and reveals himself in a tiny trickle, never in a torrent. You sit in the US, with the fridge stashed with buckets of ice-cream, of every possible flavor. It goes totally unnoticed. Three months elapse. Mold and fungus take over. Without batting an eyelid, you dump it whole...in the garbage. It is a problem of plenty. It spoils you- there is no happiness! Rewind now.....to that one choco-bar you savoured as a kid, on a hot summer day. A second one, well, you never asked for it, since it was usually beyond one's budget! As you twirled the choco-bar, this way and that, and watched its chocolate shell crumble in your tongue, it was not just ice-cream you enjoyed, but dollops of happiness too!
Summer is....a kaleidoscope of memories! What about that summer, eons ago, when you competed with your sister over a mango-shake. How you faked finishing off your glass, and waited till she was done with hers. And then, with mischievous delight, you now flashed your glass, still filled to the brim! And while she looked on longingly, how you prolonged the agony endlessly, one sip at a time, with visible relish, all the time scrutinizing the remaining level of the shake...by the ounce!
And that summer afternoon, when the entire neighborhood kids ransacked the kitchen in one home, (much to the consternation of the lady of the house) as part of a mega ice-cream making project! How after much custard-stirring and accompanied spillage, it was finally hauled into the freezer. The endless wait for the custard to solidify, with repeated checks- how collective impatience finally brought closure to the growing frustration! The 'ice-cream' still tasted immensely divine....despite having to be drunk off the cups!
And those summer memories, of travel by train in the month of April. It blazed its way through Wadi, Raichur....and places straight out of a furnace! Sitting by the window, the throat was parched and the tongue chalk-dry. And the stop at a nondescript station, when the hawker held up a bottle of Cola....tantalizingly against the face. Ice-water dripped off the base of the bottle, and the sides, pocked with diamond-like beads of condensed-vapor! How you looked back expectantly...piteously...at your stern father...... for that one nod of approval!
Yes, summer is oppressive- it is humid and sticky or unbearably dry. Yes, the electricity plays truant for most parts of the day. You are vexed and you express your irritation. But that instant, that instant....when the current is back....and the fan makes an audible grunt...and whirs into action....the thrill, the happiness.... is for keeps!
The Indian summer and exams are inseparable. It is the season when students suddenly turn overly studious and religious too! As each exam comes to a close, the anticipation of a full two-month vacation takes over. The start of the grand summer vacation- ask those students how they feel. Happiness, that slimy fellow, gives up his miserliness for a change, and pours his heart out with abandon.
No one celebrates summer like we do- it's the time for lassi topped with generous cream, of delicious kulfi at the beach, of the mango in all its variety, of ice-cold rose-milk and jigarthanda, of sleeping on the terrace by night, of curling up with a book the whole day, of lazy mornings and leisurely walks, of a drugged siesta in the muggy afternoons, of matinee shows and back-to-back mindless movies.....and finally....the pulsating excitement of the IPL circus!
Summer is upon us! Come, let's enjoy this summer to the hilt!
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