We had joy, we had fun, we had seasons in the sun

Our cooler is not working and I am sweating like a pig. Reminds me of how dependent we have become on the cooler, here in the U.S, especially without pedestal fans. I have been running up and down trying to fix it, dreading how I am going to spend the night. I open the window, door, no change. Out of curiosity I login to the weather channel to see what the temperature is . It's 21 degreee celcius and thats the hottest it is going to get tonight. Out of curiosity again, I check the temperature in chennai /madurai . It s a whopping 37 degree celcius. I remember that heat. Madras used to be worse than Madurai. Madurai was scorching/burning hot whereas Madras used to be this sweaty sticky hot.

When we were kids and summer came I remember the whole new routine. Fruits were different- mangoes, watermelons, ice apples (nongu) would appear out of nowhere. Food was different - there ll be less frying and more kootu types. Best part was the dessert- rosemilk, milkshakes, lassi s , fresh juices, and elaneer ( thanks priyanka for the reminder).yummmm.

Our habits, sleeping styles would change.The whole family had an intra-house migration pattern. Everyone would compete for the cooler parts of the home. So we had to earn our cool spots. We did have AC . But that was only for our parents' room. It seemed mean then, but hey I am paying my electricitiy bills now, so it doesnt seem that mean now. Anyway, when summer came, it usually brought along exams. Annual exams. Studying was hard enough, leave alone studying in that hot room of ours( mine and my sister's). Most of these memories I am talking about, are after my sister left for college(hostel). So my regular study area was mottai maadi after sunset. I had my own cot and a chair in the terrace. We also had a kind of Mullai poo climber growing all over the beams in the sitout. The smell used to be brilliant. It was like a 100 scented candles around you. Around five thirty in the evening, my maid (& thozhi) Selvi and I used to go upstairs. She d bring a bucket and a mug. There was a tap upstairs. My job was to sprinkle water throughout the terrace and her job was to pluck the flowers ( poo parikradhuku vera better english yaarukavdhu therinja pls let me know. am not happy with picking/plucking ). It was amazing how the hot concrete would suck up the water so quickly, I d be sprinkling water over and over again and be amused at how it would disappear. I d then sprinkle extra water over the roof of my room not knowing it wouldnt help much.
Then Selvi would sit right next to my wire cot and threading the flowers she had picked, keeping me company I thought then. But only later did I realize that she was actually sitting there to make sure I studied and didnt fall asleep.

And then after a couple of hours of studying/arattaying with Selvi/ star gazing, I d go down for dinner and come back upstairs, collect all my books and go down to continue studying in my room which would have cooled down by then. This was a ritual every year.The first year it was just me, cos all other kids in the neighbourhood were too small to be studying alone or even studying!. But the subsequent years,
at around sunset, all kids in the neighbourhood, even accompanied by parents started assembling in their respective terraces. I felt proud/annoyed that people were copying me. We then started having these mottaimadi - mottaimaadi conversations about exams and when they were getting over.
After a few years, our room also got an a.c, but the ritual continued because we were conserving electricity - so only our parents would have their AC on. So sometimes I d end up sleeping in their room cos the only other choice I had was- to end up getting baked in my room.

Scorching heat, insatiable thirst, sweaty nights, sweatier days, endless summer - its all the same now, the difference is- we had fun then. To be continued..