This lazy Sunday afternoon brings back many memories.
It was a summer holiday when I started reading a comic book on my own.
It was a summer when I learnt how to ride a bicycle and to swim.
It was a summer when I went out shooting with a Yashica camera.
Summer meant visiting relatives.
Summer meant cricket.
Summer meant friends.
Summer has returned.
Mangoes and watermelon staked in the markets announce the arrival of summer.
For this summer reading, I have a classic novel in my hand.
Dreams of voyages have returned.
But playing cricket, taking a trip into the county side on a bicycle, swimming sessions in playground size wells, fishing in Cauvery and Noyyal, trekking to the secret hideout at the Thieves Cave... they will never return.
I am far away from my friends. Too far.
Our gang had planned for one of those reunions this summer, to which I could never go.
One of them got married today while I am a few thousand miles away.
I couldn’t be there.
By the time this summer gets over, half of my gangsters would have completed their honeymoons.
I got a one-way ticket, and I am afraid there is no return.
If I live a long life, I might see another thirty odd summers.
Maybe I will make some new friends.
One day, I will be watching how my sons spend their summer vacations.
But...
My boyhood summer days are long gone.
The summers of the ’90s will never be back.
It was a summer holiday when I started reading a comic book on my own.
It was a summer when I learnt how to ride a bicycle and to swim.
It was a summer when I went out shooting with a Yashica camera.
Summer meant visiting relatives.
Summer meant cricket.
Summer meant friends.
Summer has returned.
Mangoes and watermelon staked in the markets announce the arrival of summer.
For this summer reading, I have a classic novel in my hand.
Dreams of voyages have returned.
But playing cricket, taking a trip into the county side on a bicycle, swimming sessions in playground size wells, fishing in Cauvery and Noyyal, trekking to the secret hideout at the Thieves Cave... they will never return.
I am far away from my friends. Too far.
Our gang had planned for one of those reunions this summer, to which I could never go.
One of them got married today while I am a few thousand miles away.
I couldn’t be there.
By the time this summer gets over, half of my gangsters would have completed their honeymoons.
I got a one-way ticket, and I am afraid there is no return.
If I live a long life, I might see another thirty odd summers.
Maybe I will make some new friends.
One day, I will be watching how my sons spend their summer vacations.
But...
My boyhood summer days are long gone.
The summers of the ’90s will never be back.
