Whispers Of Summer

THE SUMMER THAT CHANGED SUMMERS.

Summers had never been my cup of tea. Funny for I am neither a tea nor a summer person. The blinding, soul sucking sunlight, the draught laden heatwaves and the headache of sweating through the chores. I remember telling my friend once, “Oh! Please! I would rather freeze to death than romanticize the most devious of seasons,” that is, until that one summer.

 I woke up irritated. Delhi summers in a girls’ PG were intolerable, and my monthly visit made it worse. That week had been exhausting with summer’s arrival, our college fest approaching, and my team organizing a competition. I had been running around getting permissions, managing decorations, and keeping up with assignments. I needed a quiet weekend without responsibilities, but instead, I faced a sharp stomach pain. Just as I was about to lie down, a teammate texted about trouble shopping for décor and wanted me to join.

‘Seriously?! Can’t I have one peaceful day in this heat?!’ I thought. Other teammates were joining, so I called them. Living in the market area, we agreed to meet in front of my PG. We shopped for hours, splitting up to be more efficient as each task took forever. I was relieved as we split, for shopping with my friend was better than moving slowly with a troop of freshers in the heat. We took a break to eat and cool off before heading to college. I vented all the way in the auto.

“ I don’t understand why we have to do this on a Saturday. Couldn’t we have waited till Monday?? What is the damn hurry when there is still a week left for the event?”.

Of course, my friend might have been annoyed to work on the weekend too, but she bore it well. She tried to pacify me the entire time but everything just got on my nerves during summer.

“Why couldn’t we have had the fest during winter?” I asked her, “I just took a bath before coming and look at me now, I’m sweating even through my nails”.

“Oh! You and summers” she laughed “ I find your misery mildly amusing. Anyway, it’s only a matter of few more hours. Just suck it up till then!”.

College was no better. As it was a weekend, most of the rooms were closed and the remaining were occupied so, ultimately, we had to work in the open. The work lasted till 5 in the evening and all I wanted then was to be teleported directly to my room.

I took an E-rikshaw that day instead of walking.

“bhaiya do not take any more passengers please. I want to reach quickly” I told the driver.

But lo! My fate! The driver not only picked up another passenger, but we also got stuck in the most tedious traffic. I cursed my fate ‘it probably would’ve been faster if I just walked’ I wondered. I looked at my fellow passenger, a woman, seeming to be in her late 20s or early 30s. She looked exhausted, covered in sweat, carrying two heavy bags, I naturally felt bad for her. ‘I suppose it’s alright if the driver picked her up as well’ I thought ‘she looks like she could use a break too’.

The entire journey from my college to PG takes merely 10 minutes by a rikshaw and today just moving 200 meters took 15 minutes.

“Are you a student here?” she asked.

“Yes” I replied. On a normal occasion, I would’ve probably told her my entire life history but, today the fatigue made me incapable of socialization.

She continued to ask me my college, home town and the course I was enrolled in. To each question, I gave not more than 2–3-word answers. She seemed sweet but I was in no mood to talk that day.

“You know, I too graduated from this University. Daulat Ram College was my Alma mater, and my now husband used to study at Kirori Mal.”

“oh I see” my reactions might have been laconic but my interest was piqued.

“we met one time by accident and started dating each other. We used to go for the Sudama ki chai even in this scorching heat” she giggled “he is now in the military and I teach at the school for army kids. It has been ten years since I last came here. Oh! How I missed this place!”

I listened quietly. The traffic was clearing up a little now.

“I miss those college days. You don’t know how lucky you are right now. This time, this place and the people are what you are going to carry with you forever in life. Enjoy this place, this time. I came down here just to walk in these streets again. Even after ten years this place holds the same emotions. I hope ten years down the lane, you too have enumerable fond memories of this place. The nostalgia this place and time hold is immeasurable.”

the rikshaw turned and I caught myself smiling.

“You see that temple there? My husband and I used to come here so often then. It holds a special place in my heart.” she said “You can stop here, bhaiya.”

‘So she came to visit this temple again,’ I concluded, and as we were about to move ahead, I quickly asked “hey! What’s your name by the way?”. She told, we moved past her and she went into the temple.

Suddenly, the day wasn’t as bad anymore. The warm winds weren’t as bad now. ’10 years huh…’ I wondered ‘Sweating through the Delhi summers with ice tea in my hand, buying fruit juice and ice cream from every street vendor we could find. Honestly, wouldn’t I miss this time? This summer here?’ and just like that, my perspective changed. I suppose summers have that effect on one. Without even realizing we build our core memories around summers. In its loo-laden winds, summer carries nostalgia. My first college fest, my first term exams and the first time I went back home from college. All these memories were woven around summers. Even now, whenever I think of summers, that auto ride with the optimistic stranger pops into my mind and I cannot help but smile.

“Here we are” the auto driver called. I got down , paid him, and as I was walking towards my PG I thought ‘maybe summers aren’t that bad after all’ and the ice tea in my hand agreed.