I've spent 3 summers away from home, and it took a dutch rarity to remind me that- a darn hot day in the Netherlands. That also took me back to the scorching afternoons, seeking refuge under the ceiling fan, and slurping that last bit of divine nectar off that 'banginapalli' Mango slice with the latest fiction hot-seller waiting to be devoured. Summers back home meant a lot of time in hand.
Open air swimming before the midday sun got angry red, afternoon naps after a tummy soothing lunch, gallons of coconut water, unlimited tv, exciting novels, made summers beautiful.
Now I'm beginning to wonder, I don't seem to have either the summers or that guilt-free leisure time, except brooding over 'those were the days'. Damn you nostalgia.
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