Last few days have been scrumptious, even through the smothering heat. Tranquil jogs around the park at night. Cleansing tantrums and sobs through the afternoon. Yummy ice-cream squares and foot massages later. Gulps of paper back reads. Bad movies in perfectly chilled cinema halls - an experience that is all the more delightful when you are clad in breathing cotton shorts and singlet. An after-dinner outing with friends to India Gate - just soaking in a revelry that can only be described as summer madness. Lying down amidst scampering kids and looking up at stars that resemble distant surfers riding black waves. Making plans and weaving dreams during a lazy drive to Jor Bagh market. An indulgent head massage with fingers pressing my temples and those tense muscles at the nape of my neck. My hair, after the hair pack and a gentle rinse, looked and felt so nourished. Crazy little trips to Jaipur highway for tea at dawn.
Each of these memories looked bundled prettily in red, thorny litchy skin. Making the flesh plumper, the juice sweeter. My husband had just got the very best litchees I have had in a long, long, long time.
It’s summer now. And hot is not the only way to describe it.