Walking on sushine

I was tagged for this by the Mad Momma approximately eight months and my lazy-ass ways have gotten around to me doing it only now.

Yes, I know I suck.

Gracefully ignoring all the snickering, I shall get to the purpose of the tag.

A lot of people I know love the monsoon. They love the rain and the smell of the earth after the first rain. They love the idea of hot pakoras and a steaming cup of tea watching the rain lash against the windows and lightening light up the sky.

For me, on the other hand, the monsoon has never been one of my favourites. Sure, I love the smell of the earth and the hot pakoras minus the tea. Long walks in the rain.

But there's so much about the monsoon that I dislike. The dirt that's everywhere. In the trains, in the buses. The flies, the dirty rivulets of water.

But what is perhaps my major gripe with the monsoon is how depressed it makes me feel. Nothing gets me down as much as looking out of the window and seeing a darkened sky, rain pouring down, thunder and lightening. Well, maybe I'm a lil bit crazy, but I never feel as lonely or upset as I do at those particular moments.

The winter, on the other hand is a whole other story. First off, it's not like we have much of a winter here anyway, so it's all pretty much a moo point.

But I have experienced winter, in Ladakh and Kashmir and Himachal. Temperatures falling to below 0 degrees Celsius.

And while I love the cold, I don't think I could bear to live like that all the time. All bundled up and afraid of frostbite.

I'm born to live in shorts and tees, you see. And that's precisely why I love summer.

Now before you run up with the straitjacket and the butterfly net, wondering what in hell could I love about humid, sticky, sweaty Mumbai summers.

It's more about the memories associated with it, that make it a very special season for me.

Summer meant three months of vacation from school. With just play, play and more play, beginning at 10 in the morning and ending at around 9 in the night. Carrom, Monoply, Pictionary, Hockey, Football, Basketball, Lock and Key, Hide n Seek, Dabba ISpice. Cycling everywhere, even from the kitchen to the bathroom.

It was ripe Alphonso mangoes that my dad bought wholesale from Crawford market devoured by the dozen. Gloriously golden yellow, with the most delicious aroma.

Green raw mangoes stolen from people's trees which could set your teeth on edge eaten with a dab of salt and red chilli powder. Countless numbers of frozen golas.

It was vacations taken with family and friends

It was hot, muggy afternoons spent in the cool confines of Regal and Eros, watching movies with a quick trip down to either Leopold's or Gokul for chilled beer, depending on how rich we were feeling.

It was plans for the year ahead and hopes of what the new academic year would be like.

Summer has so much going for it.

Now you ask? Summer now is spent inside the almost frigid office looking down on the poor sods who are slaving away under the heat of the sun.

I don't get much of the rest of the joys of summer you see.

And just so you appreciate a little sunshine too. I leave you with THIS.