Summer

“Get up . Get up. ”
I knew my mom was already at it , because of the creaking of the doors , and clatter of the utensils and chatter among my grandma and my mom .
Tiffin was being made .
I could smell parathas roasting on the griddle .
Sleepily , you open your eyes . First day of the morning school . In the peak of summer , we had something , euphemistically called , summer school .
The school would start at the crack of the dawn . At 0630 hrs . First buses would trundle out at an unearthly hour of 0515 hrs , second trip at 0545 hrs and 0615 hrs you were supposed to wind up , bathed , fed and dressed , in the assembly hall . Your hopes and dreams crinkly crisp and smelling of soap and sunshine .
The school ended at 1300hrs or so . Hurriedly , all the kids were hustled into buses and sent home . In the scorching afternoon sun , “loo” , an infamous summer wind blew across the playgrounds and rattled closed windows . It was known to cause dehydration , heatstroke and worse .
This continued for whole of the month of May .
This was done to ensure that we stayed indoors in the latter half of the day .Read home .
Morning school also heralded the coming of summer vacations . Long afternoons naps , sweet mangoes and bel sherbet , a drink made from the wood apple . It also meant loads of homework and mornings grappling with algebraic equations .
Large quantities of raw mango would be pickled and laid on the roof to cure and ripen in its brine and oil and spice . Sweet pickle and aam papad (a dessicated preserve of mango pulp ) would attract hornets and sticky fingered sweet toothed kids .
Needless to say , these two items had short lives .