Summers in Kolkata slide rather than blister, which is what happens when I visit Jhunjhunu. Both are experiences. There's no hiding place here because the humidity is omnipresent - but a shaded tree is enough to save you from the dry heat in Rajasthan. And then I go to a Delhi - where nothing can save you except an airconditioned room, because what does not melt you burns you down.

 

There's very little that's romantic about an Indian summer, except for a strange immersion. Much more than an attitude of mind-over-matter, it is an alignment which can save you - of deciding not to escape but just to be one with what the universe offers. It's surprising how quickly our bodies can get distracted from discomfort.

 

The important thing is to be alone in this battle inside, so we are not influenced by the opinions and incessant cribbing of others. And since this seeps into other things, I'm very careful about whom I go out for all experiences. Then I have the luxury of my flawed reactions - to let my emotions flow untouched by anything other than my own proclivities and prejudices.

 

I cannot overstate the pleasure of letting a morning sweep over us with all its intimations of fresh possibilities. Possibly nothing has changed in life's continuum, but there is still an incredible sense of renewal which can only sweep over us if we are alone with our feelings, untouched by anybody else's aura.

 

If you liked this poem, consider listening to these other poems on the magic of mornings - 

Get in touch with me on [email protected]

 

Link: https://filmmusic.io/en/song/this-world-instrumental