Shelley said 'Spring' but I say 'Summer'
Percy Shelley did remark quite an era ago that when winter came, spring wouldn't be far behind. His poetic rendition on a beautiful fact of life is true, but I would recommend another season to Mr. Shelley and wish he would be / were already reborn in Chennai to appreciate this fact. So, assuming that the then Shelley, now reborn as probably a Selvaraj, is able to telepathically get the import of this blog, I continue...
I was in an air-conditioned car today in the middle of a test track about 100 km from Chennai. It was a good start to a day of testing and everything seemed to be going smooth until about 9:30 am. Slowly, the pleasantness of the confined comfort zone started to express the crude reality of the world outside. The day was actually getting as hot as it was bright. I checked the computer to let the reality of the rising mercury sink in and it was about noon when I yelled with joy at seeing 40 deg Celsius.
As someone who was brought up in the natural oven that is Chennai, life in Bangalore has been troublesome with irritating spells of a swollen running nose that almost perennially stays crimson red from repeated friction with the handkerchief. With dandruff in my hair and flu in the air, I have always missed the joy of the Chennai summer, augmented much by the nostalgia of the limitless cricket on the roads and the unending goading from mom to get me back home at least for sanity's sake. The nights spent on the terrace under the stars and the sea breeze with flights on the landing path roaring parallel to me are all just a dream now.
College was greater fun - a sudden hint of life (in those days) amid arid land. There was just our building and a mess that served unlimited spicy meals at 15 rupees per glutton. 40+ temperatures plus hair raising spice that would probably even make one's tongue sweat were the main attractions of college time summers.
After 2008, it was today that I probably saw 40 C and felt sweat drip from head to toe doing nothing. I relished it. I savoured it. Tomorrow, I am heading back to Bangalore. I just hope that no situation in life takes the summer out of me, although it has taken me away from summers.
I was in an air-conditioned car today in the middle of a test track about 100 km from Chennai. It was a good start to a day of testing and everything seemed to be going smooth until about 9:30 am. Slowly, the pleasantness of the confined comfort zone started to express the crude reality of the world outside. The day was actually getting as hot as it was bright. I checked the computer to let the reality of the rising mercury sink in and it was about noon when I yelled with joy at seeing 40 deg Celsius.
As someone who was brought up in the natural oven that is Chennai, life in Bangalore has been troublesome with irritating spells of a swollen running nose that almost perennially stays crimson red from repeated friction with the handkerchief. With dandruff in my hair and flu in the air, I have always missed the joy of the Chennai summer, augmented much by the nostalgia of the limitless cricket on the roads and the unending goading from mom to get me back home at least for sanity's sake. The nights spent on the terrace under the stars and the sea breeze with flights on the landing path roaring parallel to me are all just a dream now.
College was greater fun - a sudden hint of life (in those days) amid arid land. There was just our building and a mess that served unlimited spicy meals at 15 rupees per glutton. 40+ temperatures plus hair raising spice that would probably even make one's tongue sweat were the main attractions of college time summers.
After 2008, it was today that I probably saw 40 C and felt sweat drip from head to toe doing nothing. I relished it. I savoured it. Tomorrow, I am heading back to Bangalore. I just hope that no situation in life takes the summer out of me, although it has taken me away from summers.
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