The Summer again,
Slurping the litchi nectar;
Days went by - the hot afternoons.
Their oranges and yellows.
Juicy, ripe teenage days.
Covert fantasies, a soaring mind,
Boring after cricket fights!
Childhood, sweat, grouses and laughter
Grandpa's sprawling house.
Hustle bustle, markets and hawkers.
Talkers, walkers and gawkers!
Those evenings hanging out with cousins,
The Chaat stalls, little money, pockets empty
Fountains of heady fun.
Giggles and running around,
Studies suspended for months.
Reading books and
Visiting places, ours and theirs.
God knows whose else,
All a custom, accustomed to;
Without any will - an annual affair.
The clock strikes twelve
Night then, sleep eludes.
The heat is not doused yet;
Heat boils and rashes
Fridge water and cold splashes.
Summer holidays to look forward to;
The Summer then,