A Slice Of My Childhood Summer

Summer in my childhood. Think of it and you see a kaleidoscope of memories. Two months of carefree holidays when you were not really compelled to do anything. A welcome break from school routine, it was a time when the boundaries between morning, afternoon, evening and night melted into a soft interval of nothingness. Oh,what a happy and colourful nothingness it was...filled with fun, recreation, your favourite books and food. Of course, there was an occasional film to watch and a mandatory visit to your maternal grandparents' place.

But most of the holidays were spent at home in Indore and you looked forward to sleeping on the terrace.The mattresses and sheets that were cool and comfortable at night under a starlit sky, turned dusty and warm as soon as early rays of the rising sun touched them. Sleeping any longer was no option, unless you went indoors and slept under the monotonous drone of a ceiling fan, that is, if you had one. In most houses, the ceiling fan adorned only the living room. You could make up for the lack of sleep by dozing off in the afternoon. The long, languorous afternoons were ideal for a siesta. If you slept on the terrace at night, you needed these midday naps, for your nighttime sleep was often punctuated by the buzzing of a rare mosquito, noisy wedding bands playing late into the night, sounds from a transistor radio coming from your neighbour's terrace, howling of stray dogs or an unexpected rain shower. And then koels' shrill calls pierced the stillness of the skies at daybreak.

Summertime was busy time for the elders. Wheat for the whole year had to be bought and stored safely. One of the rooms at home would be converted into a makeshift granary where quintals of wheat was cleaned before storing it away. A woman was employed especially for this purpose. She would descend with several of her daughters to free the wheat from any impurities like small pebbles and other things. This went on for three or four days. Then the wheat would be filled in sun-dried drums, treated with herbal pesticides and kept in the storeroom.

Raw mangoes appeared in the market which were duly brought home, made into pickles and stored in ceramic jars. The harder and sourer the mangoes, the better suited they were for making pickles. Some were boiled and their extract taken out to make panna, the refreshing, energy-giving drink. Some others were grated or cut into pieces to make murabba, a sweet and sour jam that went well with rotis. All of these were exchanged with the neighbours. The recipe for making these varies in each family, and as a result they taste different.

Then there were papads, stuffed chillies and kurdais to be made and dried in the sun. Kurdais are jalebi-like spirals made from fermented wheat. The process requires hard work, skill and expertise. All this sun-dried stuff is fried and served with a meal to make it spicy..

And then there was sugarcane juice. Temporary sheds were made in each neighbourhood where freshly squeezed sugarcane juice was served with additives like ginger and lemon. A visit to these sheds made for a nice evening outing. Not only was the juice refreshing on a hot summer day, but it was also affordable. Some of the sheds sported private enclosures called family rooms, separate from the common area. Both were furnished with cheap metal or plastic tables and chairs or benches.  One could order a big glass or a small glass. The big glass was often represented by a crude drawing of Amitabh Bachchan on the walls of the shed, while Jaya Bachchan stood there for the small glass. This imagery appeared year after year.

We had fun swinging on the swing in our veranda, playing the simple board game that has been permanently carved on the cement floor at home, eating mangoes, playing in the park behind our house, and reading and listening to stories. A trip to Burhanpur--my maternal grandparents' place--and the prospect of meeting cousins there was a highlight of the holidays. More on Burhanpur in a later post!

Delhi In May: Summery Treats

The long summer has two distinct phases in Delhi, a dry one followed by a humid one. The month of May typically falls in the dry phase that is marked by hot, dry winds blowing in from the arid plains of neighbouring Rajasthan. For most of this month, the sun beats down mercilessly on the hapless residents of the capital, sending them scurrying for cover every now and then. The temperatures are high, the days are hot, the long afternoons unbearably hotter, and the nights are pretty warm. Add to that the frequent power cuts and you have the recipe for a perfect "potato in a pressure cooker" experience. The water coming out of your taps or showers is hotter than you would want it to be. Mind you, this is without using any kind of heating. The overhead storage tanks are normally located on the terrace and that is the reason why the water is already hot. So, if one wants a cooler bath, it is a good idea to fill a bucket with tap water and let it stand for some time before using.

If you dare to step out in this hostile weather, some wonderful visual treats are sure to greet you. The tree-lined avenues are adorned with the golden showers of the Indian Laburnum (Cassia fistula, amaltas) and the fiery canopy of the Flame Tree (Royal Poinciana, Delonix regia, gulmohar). Together, they paint the town red and gold. It is amazing how the trees that you barely noticed a few months ago, are now all aglow with the most magnificent look they wear especially for the summer. The abundant cheerfulness of the yellow and the overwhelming luxuriance of the red are truly spectacular.

Another yellow treat dominates the fruit markets. It is the king of fruits, the mango. Mostly yellow, the mango sports different shades of red, pink and green. It comes in a number of varieties, having different sizes and shapes. Fruit shops display glistening piles of this wonderful fruit, its unmistakable aroma tempting shoppers to buy some. Delhi, being in the North, gets chausa, dasheri and langda varieties of the fruit. But, it is also the capital of India and is home to people from other parts of the country as well as a big diplomatic community from all over the world. So, one or more of varieties such as neelam, kesar, banganapalli, sindoora can also be found in some select markets. The venerable alphonso from Ratnagiri is one of the most coveted, the langda from Varanasi being a close contender. Neatly packed boxes of alphonso occupy places of pride in fruit shops across the city. Produce of the cheaper, local variety is often strewn on the floor, making it easier for buyers to pick some of their choice. Aam (common) or khaas (special), we can say that an aam (mango) is always khaas (special)!

The schools are closed for the summer. The discomfort and high temperatures notwithstanding, Delhi receives many visitors during these holidays. Some are on their way up North to the hills. Others visit relatives with a view to do some sightseeing in and around Delhi. Many weddings are planned during these days. Naturally, they bring outstation guests to the city. A popular place to take your guests out is the India Gate lawns. Families can be seen camping there with picnic baskets after sunset. The sprawling lawns provide people with a breath of fresh air in the oppressive heat of the summer. Children can run around and have their favourite ice cream from one of the numerous ice cream carts lining the lawns. There are people selling balloons, potato chips and other small toys or eatables all around. The place is a good hangout, staying alive late into the night. A little earlier in the evening, the sound and light show at the Red Fort is a nice option too.

As is always the case, the not-so-privileged ones bear the brunt of extreme weather conditions, be it in a city, small town or village. Delhi is no exception. The soaring temperatures coupled with scarcity of water can be hard for anybody. For the homeless living on the fringes of the society, these are trying times. But then, which aren't?