Author’s Notes:
The symbolic
first day of summer was usually marked by the completion of the final exams.
That would be the day you were allowed to finally get into those half t-shirts
and shorts; the ones you were longing for but could only watch being taken out
of the dusty old suitcase, stacked in the bins above the cupboards, and spread
out on the corded cot on the terrace. They were beyond limits as a
precautionary health measure during exams, resulting in some rather sweaty days
considering the fact that the mercury had already
started reaching the 30°C mark. Nevertheless, the first exposure for a 1st grader to the tad chilly
March sunshine, after shedding off those heavy jackets and itchy sweaters, was an
experience worth preserving for the next 365 days.
Going
to Bhubaneswar was something I longed for throughout the year. You get to meet
your relatives, your cousins and most importantly you go to a place where your
mom is all chilled out. Other reasons included the fact that this was the only
time of the year I got to ride a train. The first few days at Bhubaneswar is
characterized by the best of Odia cuisine,
lots of cousin time and some nice family outings to temples. The next few days
is, well, also the same, just that you reach a saturation point. Then comes the
boring phase when you just seem to be meeting random 7th degree
family friends and the monsoon eliminates the outings. Add to that the power
cuts. And for some reason, it is at this point when dad decides to impart some
Math training because 8th grade, according to him, is high time for
me to start performing academically. The last few days of the vacation is the
sobbing phase wherein you can’t sink in the fact that it will be a year before
you will meet these people again; unaware of the changes this one year would
bring about.
So while not everyone hates the season of winter as much as I do, most do hate the winters of their lives. But just like winter is a key element in realizing the importance of summer and enjoying the fun of summer to greater degree, the tough times have the same effect on the good times.
Please do leave your comments in the link below :) (where it shows the number of comments)
I have tried a new style of writing here
wherein my entire school life progresses with the summer, symbolized as the
good part of my childhood (& good times in general) which eventually leads
to a winter i.e. a bad time. No offense to anyone who actually likes winter. Kindly
ignore the timeline offset in the beginning as I started writing this during
the peak of winter.
***
At -24°C served
with a side of the wind-chill factor, you can feel your lips parch, you develop
a headache and your cheeks lose their “googly-woogly-woosh”
factor, all in a matter of a couple of minutes of outdoor exposure. The frigid
polar vortex has been the highlight of this year’s harsh and relentless winter in
the States. This is the most snowfall I have seen in the last two years. Now,
this snow problem has not exactly been
the passing out & frost-bite inducing kind, but it has been severe enough
to have me go through driving “adventures” [1]. Oh yes! I have a car now and despite
having a heated machine, which gets me to places in no time, I still stand by
my age old hatred of winter. Only
halfway through, it seems to have been an eternity of pain and suffering. In
such a scenario one can only long for all this to end, for the dawn of a
heavenly abode by the name of summer.
Aah summer! Let
aside all the bright sunny days, in contrast to the string of dull and gloomy
days of the “white” season, summer also seems to be the warehouse for more
pleasant memories than the contrary. Now when I say summer here, I generically
refer to “not winter”, before I get entangled in a war of words against the 45°C
July days. Based in Midwest USA at this point of my life, the dawn of summer is
usually well into May, after a teasing spring. Back in India however, summer
virtually began in March.
***
 |
| The day you were allowed to finally get into those shorts |
The first
milestone of the season is Holi. Oh,
the dreaded festival of colors! So while all the other 3rd graders
ran about outdoors reveled in the colors and wetness, I sat down on the drawing
board, meticulously chalking up every possible strategy to dodge the attackers.
(I have already published a piece on the horrors and social importance of Holi [2]). The few days leading up to Holi however, was an exciting time for
me considering my dad would visit then- which meant a daily dose of either a Cornetto chocolate ice-cream cone or an
aesthetically pleasing blue can of Pepsi.
The temperatures
would already start to sore by the time the calendar flips to April. This is
the time when the next academic year would commence. But only a month away from
the haven called summer vacations – it is normal for any 5th grader to
hit the anticipation mode and just try to blow past this phase somehow. The
challenge would be to make it through the notorious loo-winds season, unscathed. But most primary school kids like me
would invariably end up with a high fever, resulting in a week in bed and a
month of banishment from any form of commercial comestibles.
As mature and
responsible the 6th graders appeared, on actually reaching it, you
figure that there is not much of a difference, except for the added homework. You
still count the number of days till summer break and when that countdown
narrows down to single digits, it becomes increasingly hard to keep that rise
smile off your face. The D-day, which is a half-D-day for us, was a mere
formality. With the class being a quarter of its strength, the four periods
would end up becoming gossip sessions with the teachers, who would have already
assigned us our holiday homework, much to our frustration. Anyway that is the
last thing on your mind when you run out of the school, with the elongated
summer break bell still towing in the background and walk back to be a part of
the morning rituals of domestic jhaadu-pochha,
for a change. The day goes by watching TV and just trying to digest the
fact that you have fifty whole days of freedom ahead. The first few days of
vacation are those of figuring out what to do. A good portion of my time would
be dedicated to watching the technician install a fresh batch of grass to the
air-cooler and fix the motor of its pump. With the 1999 world cup on air, my
buddy and I decided to play a whole version of the tournament at my driveway.
The 40°C temperature
at noon is the last thing on a sixth grader’s mind. However we would only
manage half of the league when it would be time for me to head out to
Bhubaneswar, to spend time with my grandparents.
 |
| Spending time with Grandpa at Bhubaneswar |
The
journey back to Kanpur used to be the worst, but was made up for by the reunion
with school friends the next day. This would also mean the beginning of another
cricket season. And this spirit would not be dampened by the fact that we were
in the 10th grade or by the extreme humidity. Aah the humidity. July-August
is the time when the sales of nycil and
itch-guard see a peak. The drop
starts thereafter with the onset of monsoon. The first few days of rains brings
along with it a sigh of relief for everyone. But the next few only brings about
headaches with floods destroying crops and lives, and rainy days destroying
Saturday afternoon cricket games for us.
Summer
thereafter would only go downhill. While the rumor of 6th grade
being tough turned out to be a hoax, the ones for high-school turned out to be
more than true. Mid-September was earmarked by chilly weather and stiff
syllabi, both of which would only get worse with time. The days would get
shorter and the study hours, longer- with a plethora of mock, real and
competitive exams lined-up for the course of the impending winter. The first
sneeze and the subsequent adornment of a sun-dried and shrunk sweater would
pretty much pull the curtains on the blessing called summer.
The winter of my
school life was upon me now.
***
But
there is always light at the end of the tunnel. It would only be a matter of
months when the sun would shine bright and warm again in the form of college
life. This would give rise to a fresh era of summery fun along with a whole new
definition of wintry struggle. And the same would be for the stage of life
thereafter- which for me was grad studies. I lived to see a whole new level of
brightness of the American summer and a dastardly new low of winter in the same
country.
 |
| A whole new level of brightness of the American summer |
So while not everyone hates the season of winter as much as I do, most do hate the winters of their lives. But just like winter is a key element in realizing the importance of summer and enjoying the fun of summer to greater degree, the tough times have the same effect on the good times.
For now, I have my
‘aarti-plate’ ready, to
officially and auspiciously welcome this year’s summer. Whether it actually
turns out to be a summer for me, is anyone’s guess.
References:
