Summers are nostalgic and melancholic, but they signify freedom. Freedom to just be, to laze, to dream, to play, to eat, to wonder, to awe and to while away time, day after day.
It is summer vacation! (At least in theory and in my memory). Being an adult has its perks but the biggest disadvantage is not having defined summer holidays. Summer isn’t a season I enjoy, but summers provided something that no other season did – a vacation!
A vacation with the freedom to daydream, the freedom to just be, as you’d want to be!
All my summer vacations throughout school life were fairly consistent in the itinerary:
- a family trip to a hill station across the country
- a three week-long stay at nani’s house in Pune
- an occasional extra-curricular class (dance, skating, theatre, drawing or the latest in trend that year)
- peeling dozens of mangoes on Sunday mornings with mummy, kaki and dadi for aam-ras lunches
- evenings spent playing badminton or cycling or in the garden
- watching television (a lot of television)
- books, many, many, many books
- and endless daydreaming!
I have been thinking about my nana often, these past weeks. He was a gentle soul with kind eyes, and that is how I recall him now. I can no longer recall my nana’s voice. I can recall some conversations I have had with him, but I simply cannot hear his voice clearly in my memories and it makes me sad. But the realisation that I can do nothing about it – makes me sigh! It is what it is.
Nana loved storytelling, something I disliked as a child. I disliked stories being read out to me. I loved being able to read them by myself. Now when I conduct storytelling sessions for children on weekends, I miss my nana, terribly so. I can imagine him indulgently smiling if he were to attend my dramatic recitals of children’s stories.
As a child, I disliked the city of Pune. Irrationally so. Every summer vacation when I’d accompany my mother to Pune, I’d throw a tantrum within two days of being at nani’s house to return back to Mumbai. I’d call my dad every single night, and theatrically beg to be rescued. Now years later, I wonder if nana ever felt hurt that I, his youngest granddaughter, disliked Pune with such vengeance.
My maternal relatives thought I was being a brat when I cried hysterically begging to go back to Mumbai, and my cousins would warn me that nana would lose his temper on me if I continued the theatrics, but he never did. Or I cannot recall a single time nana lost his cool on me. Maybe him being the eldest and me being the youngest, granted me an invisible immunity.
Summer of 2006 onwards, eleven-year-old Krupa decided that she was a grown-up and was thus allowed to skip going to Pune during summer vacations and would stay back in Mumbai.
Staying back in Mumbai, I did nothing troublesome, but I loved the calm-dullness of those hot summer months. I was an introverted child, who simply read for hours, and enjoyed long afternoon naps, and unbridled daydreaming sessions. Simple, yet profound luxuries which I now long for!
Summers are nostalgic and melancholic, but they signify freedom. Freedom to just be, to laze, to dream, to play, to eat, to wonder, to awe and to while away time, day after day. Summer vacations are alluring because these are limited weeks of unstructured freedom which were invariably followed by months of scheduled life.
Why does corporate (adult) life not have a structured summer vacation - this is what I have contemplated the entire hassling month of April! If you feel just as nostalgic about the summers of our childhood, then you definitely have a friend in me.
And If you do reminisce about your childhood summer vacations, then please feel free to share them with me. I’d love to know what you did, what you loved, what you disliked and what you still remember from those summers!
Enjoy the many rainbows that brightened up my April!
Blooming gulmohar flowers brighten up the mood, any day! 
I spent a Friday morning with my endearing 2.5-year-old niece. She painted with watercolours and produced some beautiful (abstract) paintings for my desk! And, I love how she loves, unconditionally. 
Kaka and Kaki (who are the most adorable lovebirds I know of) bought a pair of cheesy ‘love’ rings for each other on a recent family trip. I somehow ended up borrowing kaki’s ring and every time I look at it, I smile. (I love, love. I love to love and I love to be loved. Love!) 
We visited mummy's ancestral house in Unjha, Gujarat, which has now been demolished. Old structures tell so many stories, only if we scratch the surface. 
Enjoyed this particular hazelnut gelato! Though I barely managed to finish half of it. It did give me a sugar rush and had me giggling like a teenager the entire drive back home.
That’s it for this one!
Thank you for reading and indulging me. As always, I look forward to your replies to my newsletters. Brief or detailed, emoticons or none, over texts or calls, I am truly grateful to each of you and your replies! 🌺
