Hues of Summer
Lemonades, iced tea and ice candy makes a perpetual daily menu list as summer steps in. With complaints about the heat, discussions about latest sun-screens and a humid gossip under the ceiling fan, fun seems to come to an end in the sizzling season. I sit on my study table beside the window and look at the jovial green jackfruit tree. Amidst the rhythmic beat of the ceiling fan, I wonder in the calm wilderness of my fancy. Summer allures me. Quit the gossips about the hot weather and the power cuts! I seem to fall quietly in love with the season.
The green cover that spring spreads across the bed of the earth gets thicker in the summer as a reminder of the matured ways that we seek in life. The vibrant youth of the spring becomes the composed adult. Thanks to the heavenly showers that ushers in the emerald scenery.
Rain perhaps has the best shine and luster in summer. The drizzle becomes the shower and the shower becomes the downpour. It is not only the peacock that dances to its music; my heart too joins the rhythm. After complaining of the heat, when the cool drops rundown my face, I know why the poets chose to romance with it. The bliss of waking up on a rainy summer morning and stroll in the rain washed evening streets light a thousand twinkling candles in my heart. There can be no better way to feel this romantic enigma than in a rain drenched walk. The little paper boats sailing downstream in the fleeting streams carry my dreams to the fantasy land.
Had summer decided to give a miss, I would have survived at least one lecture from my father on the benefits of ‘aam, kothal and jaam’. But then in the brightest spirit the sun smiles, the fruits ripen and the biggest grin sits on the lips of the fruit lovers. Although not an ardent fruit lover, I cannot help but delight at the loaded market. The pink litchis, yellow mangoes, red plums, purple jamuns spread the painters colour plate. The sweet, sour and tangy flavous play hide and seek just like the monsoon cloud. For an Assamese, the leteku and poniol makes it to the ‘not to miss list’.
While the palate is always pampered by the juicy savours, the mind gets its fancy flight in the extended afternoons. Whether I lay on my bed with a piece on fiction or gaze out from the veranda into the calm grounds, a new tale spins in my head. Never to be heard, never to be told, I am simply entertained by its birth. Children laughing and hopping around as the sun spreads its long orange hue is the picture perfect. As is sit amused soaked in the steadily diffusing surrounding the sun slides down the horizon after a busy. I realize that it’s time to light the lamps and wait for the yellow beam to smile at me the next morning.
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Category: Cover Story, Issue 9, Vol I



