End of March. Beginning of April. Say Hello to Summer.

Cold welcome with bottles of iced water to an annual guest. Only that it is more scorching than hot and without any lustful features. Oh! Summer is here! To roast me in the afternoon heat. To make me walk around with bottles full of water. Inside my house it feels like sitting on a furnace. Outside it feels like hot oil being poured all over me. Sweat stains all over me drenching three dresses a day. The AC works but with a loud noise that disturbs my work. I won’t dare to switch it off. Let my work suffer, but I don’t want to sweat anymore like I do when summer comes. Down the street, around the corner, under the shade of a tree there is a man who has been selling pani puri since ages. A week before I saw him start a new business of selling sugar cane juice. Yesterday I saw him zooming away in a brand new bike. He certainly must be in love with summer, but definitely not me. In a month he might buy a car and half of its cost would have gone from my pocket.

Hey Summer, Tormentor of humid regions,  Army in Chief of the Mighty Sun, please show some mercy on me and my torn wallet. My dear Kerala! How I miss you! My beautiful mistress with armies of coconut trees and vast pools of dirty green water. If only they were neat I would have happily had a swim with a rubber tube around my belly! And now that you are also becoming hotter day by day I will get used to living a life tied to bottles of ice cold water.