Summer doesn't mean beach and bikini's when you are India. When you are in India, especially Kolkata, you wait for winter and absolutely dread summer. It means scorching sun, sweaty armpits and stifling traffic jams. In summer, we Indian's take vacations in Hill Stations to get some cool relief. If only things were so rosy here in UK.
It’s almost April now, and BBC weather says "SNOW ON WEDNESDAY!!" Give me a break! Last summer had sunny spells, so we went to beaches. The water was too cold for us hot-blooded desi's. I dipped my toe a couple of times and came back with a dark enough tan to warrant a fair and lovely treatment.
Of course I didn't take that treatment. I just happen to go back to Kolkata for a couple of months, and the mosquitoes there detoxified my blood and the sweltering heat gave me natural steaming treatments. The result, apart from a few pollution induced rashes here and there on the face, a rosy-cheeked complexion in 180 days!
I really miss summer in India, but not necessarily in Kolkata. My summers in Kolkata were mostly spent commuting to and fro from office in chicken coops...ahem...I mean local buses. Work places were, of course pleasantly air-conditioned. But there was a time when I worked for a company that had recently moved and there was no air-conditioning installed in that building. The promise of a/c seemed far when April rolled in and all we got were huge stand fans to keep us cool.
Those hot and stuffy days were full of hilarious memories though, courtesy those fans. In the middle of the day, sudden frantic chorus of "move it, move it" meant someone had dared to stand right in front of one of those fans, thus blocking the life saving breeze. Ladies wearing dupatta found the fans hazardous as they often sucked in the long fabrics, yanking the person attached to it as well. After a few scares, the men folk took up the mantle of saving the damsel in distress and dutifully shouted "watch it!" from their seats whenever a dupatta wearing female got too close to any of those fans.
We were a close, jolly group. Breaks from the hectic schedule were always filled with raucous laughter. Sometimes those breaks came in the form of power cuts. Our office has huge French Windows, which actually let in some mild breeze if opened, even in summer. That was mainly because we had fisheries and marshland nearby. Albeit the breeze smelt like fish, but beggars can't be choosers. So, in the incident of a power cut, the windows were thrown open and a crowd would gather near every window. A passerby once even commented that it reminded him of crows sitting on electric wires. How mean!
There was the one memorable afternoon in June 2004, which still makes me laugh whenever I think of it. I think we had a thunderstorm the night before and lightening had fried a nearby transformer. The better part of the morning had gone by without any work or power and people were starting to go mad. A group of us, all senior people, decided it was time for a break.
We ended up in the almost vacant amusement park that straddled the marshland near our office. We had cool snacks to counter the mid-afternoon sun and then picked some juice packs and decided to enjoy the park's Shikara rides. For all of you non-Indian's, it’s kind of like punting. But since its India, we had chauffeurs.
There must have been eight or nine of us. Sid, who had reputedly swam in the Ganga, refused to hop into the Shikara since the water was only waist high (If you ever read this Sid, I swear I mean nothing by it!). We equally divided into two boats, which resulted in one almost sinking, courtesy one of my best friends who loved his chicken butter masala a little too much.
After adjusting a little bit, we managed to keep the boat floating with three people in it (Ok, so all three us liked our chicken butter masala a little too much as well). Then we set off to enjoy the murky, fish smelling waters of that bog, side by side. Soon our empty juice packs, now filled with that disgusting water, were flying like missiles from one boat to another. Any attempt to avoid those resulted in near capsizing and loud screams and curses.
Occasionally, my best friend would lean this way or that way, to get a better aim or to get his lighter out his pocket. This made the boat tilt slowly, with us screaming "sit straight you fatso!” The people in the other boat would immediately take advantage at this distraction by hurling more water bombs.
Occasionally, my best friend would lean this way or that way, to get a better aim or to get his lighter out his pocket. This made the boat tilt slowly, with us screaming "sit straight you fatso!” The people in the other boat would immediately take advantage at this distraction by hurling more water bombs.
In the middle of this hilarious ride, fishes suddenly started jumping from the water, flying past our noses and smacking our faces. Whatever was the reason behind that, the result was general pandemonium as people starting squirming to avoid the fishes and tilting the boats this way and that way. We screamed, squealed, and hung on to the sides of the boat to avoid capsizing into that disgustingly dirty water. Our chauffeurs rolled their eyes at our antics.
Alas, our sweet ride ended and we all stumbled back to office, sweaty and flushed with heat, but grinning like mad people. I cherish that memory still and the memory of a friend who was there that day but not with us anymore. I haven't had such a memorable summer since that one really. Hope this summer brings some more laughter again.
In the summertime
when the weather is high
You can stretch right up
and touch the sky....
-Shaggy
