Summer vacations remind me of Dehradoon and Kwality Ice-cream.
Brood of cousins, tall milk shakes.
Mausis, Uncles and *Nanima*.
Our big, big house,
Lazy afternoons in darkened rooms.
Circuitous trips to Mussoorie –
Fights for the Ambassador’s window seats,
Retching out of those windows soon after.
Summer vacations remind me of summer crushes.
Boys from Doon School were so cute, what to do?
Evening strolls to Elloras, dressed up in our best.
Didn’t he look my way two seconds too long?
Smiles that stretched on and on and on.
Watching graceful girls dance with dashing boys at Doon Club’s May Queen Ball,
While we sipped Campa Cola-
Saddened by our lack of privileges; our underaged-selves.
Summer vacations remind me of monsoons in this Himalayan Valley –
First, the rumble,
Then, the shake,
Lights that went off,
Life that stood still. And didn’t.
A fascinating son et lumiere show.
Summer vacations remind me of late nights,
Mausi’s Ikebana and baking classes,
Her lipsticks we were allowed to use.
Scrambling for hoses as soon as the taps gurgled with water,
Watering parched lawns,
Drenching each other a little – or a lot.
~The smell of wet earth~
Talent shows we put up,
The claps and hugs that followed,
So proud of our little selves;
French Open reminds me of summers that were soon to end.
Of tears and hugs.
The long, sad drive to Delhi.
The short exciting flight to Bombay.
Summer vacations remind me of lightness of being,
Days in slow motion,