Tearing apart the lull Of summer routines, My mother and I, Scuttle towards the car, With hopes of a respite From recollecting The after taste of Luscious, honeyed mangoes. She the mellifluous driver, I, the furtive companion, Trudge along in reverse, No destination in sight, While the sun blares on, Playing broken records Of heat and dust On the parched windshield. Vexed, I open my copy Of Twilight in Delhi, Its words a frosty balm For the searing summer, As my mother Switches on the radio. Kishore Kumar barges in, His voice slyly crooning Ek Ladki Bheegi Bhagi Si, Quietly melting The discordant noise Of sweltering silence. His baritone lingers on, Suturing the unpaved paths, Till an ineluctable bump Sends us tumbling backwards Through the cyclone of time.

Suddenly I am five, Tardy for my bus On the first day After summer vacations. My mother swiftly Races the car, Cursing the crisscrossed hands Of a mismatched clock, While I scamper Towards the hefty bonnet. Bored of the distance, I dreamily hunt For slices of me In dark corners, Mourning the loss Of another home I physically outgrow of. Gradually, I settle down In the crevices Of that familiar trunk, My hands twisted, My legs warped, My smile as bright As the midday sun, While my mother speeds Towards the amber dawn, The school still miles away. Through the misty glass I see the smudge, Of a crescent moon Unwilling to disappear Despite the receding darkness. Only then do I realise That every once in a while, The fading night Cannot help smiling back.