How much I talk about summer days I can still go on and on and on with my Summer rants. With big words like Global Warming, really it is a thoughtful worry. Summer has stretched much longer now than those hot days which I have enjoyed many years back.
Enjoyed for...I remember my schooldays, and the summer holidays...tucked away by Ma in the dark room in the afternoon, not for the sake of punishment, but with windows closed and thick summer curtains drawn across...no way for even a small streak of light to come in. The ceiling fan going round and round...the merry-go-round memory comes rewinding back to my mind again.
Yes. There used to be melas with merry-go-rounds, and how great it was to choose the animal back to sit on with men making it possible for the merry-go-round to go round and round, so many laughter’s so many cries spilling out from some riders...all manual handiwork then and now it’s all mechanical. Is the motorized process helping the global warming?
Mango achar (pickle), so many varieties (as I write my mouth is watering at the thought of it) bottled and making way to a safe place for this stock had to last till the arrival of the next annual yield.
...the ice-cream wallah calling out at the top of his voice...drawing attention mostly of the children. With a single coin in hand it was great peeping inside the ice-cream seller’s wooden pushcart where there was his stock...ice candies in red, yellow, white and orange. His pushcart layered with lots of ice so that the ice candies did not melt. Handing him the coin what a pleasure it was to take the candy in hand and suck and bite into it till it was fully finished.
And then the Kalboishakhi-r Jho-ard (the summer rains accompanied with strong winds), the short spell of hail storms occasionally, and lots of games to play at home. Indoor when the sun was hurting and, outdoor once the western sky began to dab the red-tinged-gold colour from the setting sun.
It was the hide-and-seek game, the crocodile and the land game, and the effort of carrying water to the terrace top to wash the terrace floor so that we could sleep there under the dark star studded skies. The moon played with the clouds...the hero of the night sky...and the breeze caressing the sleeping bodies out there. So much fun it was to sleep in the open...
A bath in the river and the splash, the jump into the water body, the swim, hah! At times went for a boat ride in the evening.
It was great to have our near and dear ones during the holidays...what a great time it was.
Now one houses sit one on top of another to rise higher and higher. Living space reducing as the price of each building is climbing with time. Urbanisation has brought down the size of the living homes...some elders call them Match Box Homes or a Pigeons Home.
As I sit and write these words I am happy for then and also for now...for I live in the present world and have to live in it.