Mangoes dipped in a bucket of water,
Hands dripping mango pulp and mouth filled with it,
The morning’s invitation of friends to start a cricket match,
The afternoon’s sun scorching over the head making me miss precious catches,
The golas and the chaat papri’s mouth watering treat,
Mother’s warning to put out the bed in the cricket field itself,
The dip in the local water canal with friends,
The non-existent tantrums of the school, because Summer Holidays!
The visit to the grandparent’s farmhouse,
The fun of rambling around with cousins aimlessly,
The red, green and blue of the sun, fields and the sky,
Those were the summers etched in my memory!
Never to return, but always remembered through the sands of time!