Summer, and a few words in between

The summer has arrived, all guns blazing, with our friendly neighborhood star pushing heat-waves at us puny mortals relentlessly. Be the beggar by day, pot-smoker by night hapless vagabonds panting for air, sweating like pigs, or those air condition-in-my-bathroom honchos huffing with a can of premium fruit juice in their hands sitting behind black-tinted car windows, summer is vicious for everyone. Such is the measuring scale of nature – it is the same for everyone. We all need to face the same hurdle.

People are becoming desperate these days. The things we hate about civilization are starting to creep in, ever so slowly. Yet most people are nothing but pawns in this gradual destruction. They can do nothing, just watch and die when their time comes. The cycle of life goes on, crushing hopes of millions, just to fulfill the dreams of a few. Waves after waves of population lash out on cities, trying their luck, before being dragged by the same sand which once propelled their journey to the land of opportunities, back to the abyss.Every moment, like bubbles coming out of the soap-water, our technicolor dreams form, and fizzle out. Yet we survive.

I have been an ardent fan of documentaries, and now thanks to my sister, this obsession has found a new way to blossom. We’ve finished David Attenborough’s every single documentary with BBC, and now slowly progressing with others. Flora/Fauna is absolutely mind-blowing in those detailed, wonderfully narrated pieces. Next up is space. My sis wants a collage of nebulae to be made and hung in our room. It’s a novel idea. I am also intrigued in documentaries of other kinds. Like a documentary which puts the documentarian on a search for an African blues singer and the lost genre of music, or the one documentary which tells about the weirdest of incidents. Michael Moore, the hard hitting story-teller is also one of my favorites. ‘Bowling for Columbine’ is a shocking revelation to say the least.

Asmita has been relentlessly telling me to write a whiny passage about my problems. ‘Change your perspective’, she tells me. I love how sometimes she becomes my mentor. Silly lil’ sister of mine. But yeah, we’re both whiny at times, we’re both extremely moody, we throw tantrums at our closest ones, and we’re a little crazy inside.

Guess what? I just found classical versions of Daft Punk’s songs! What a bliss! Tom Hodge, the guy behind reproducing ‘Aerodynamic’ is a musical prodigy. This really proves that a beautiful song, if left intact at the core, can sound equally beautiful in every rendition.

So this one started with summer. It’s around 2 am in the morning now. I’m sitting on the computer, with a window open, bringing in momentary gushes of cold wind, the incessant buzzing of crickets, and occasional horns of train engines. The little trickle of sweat starts from under my ear, and tickles its way down my neck, to my back, making me realize that the soothing winds are temporary. The real fire approaches.

Like the true me, I yawn.

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