Campus Central

The Good Ol’ Days: Nostalgia of Summer Vacations

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The scorching heat of May-June, sipping on countless glasses of Glucon-D one after another, monsoon rains to soothe our sweaty bodies; I miss summer vacations.

 Nostalgia is like an unforeseen wave on the vast and uncharted seashore of blurred memories; washing down our immortal soul with the bitter-sweet syrup of the past. A frequent visitor in most minds, the nostalgia of school days unconsciously forms a subtle curve on our lips; an uninvited smile at times and a known frown on some days.

After a tiring day of online classes while you sip into a glass of lemonade, scrolling through your Instagram feed to move your eyes up from the screen only to complain about the extra sourness of the drink, your eyes fall on the calendar. Apart from realising that fact that time flies away and disappears into stardust, you notice the month: June. Your mind spontaneously retraces itself to the fogged memories of summer vacations; no studies, endless rounds of hide-seek from dawn to dusk, stealing mangoes from the neighbour’s backyard and what not.

The last working day of school before the commencement of the vacation held a different vibe to it. The sadness of being parted away from your school friends for one and a half months was muffled by the joys of relaxation from academics. You restlessly tap your feet with alarmed ears to hear the ringing of the final bell. Once the hands of the clock align themselves with the chutti time, an uproar is followed with the same. The silent corridors become a witness to the thunderstorm of students storming out of their classrooms, the whispers of gossip and rumours amidst the commotion and the lively chaos for one last time before it delves into a state of hibernation.

You bid farewell to your friends for the short long duration of the summer vacation, get up on the bus and sit on the last seat. While you slide the rusted window with all your strength to allow some air to soothe down your sweaty forehead, you take one last glance at the school. An eerie silence forms around those once animated lifeless walls of the palace-like building. You carefully store the aesthetic scenery in your mind under the album of ‘school life’ to cherish when you reunite with your lost, unforgettable friends from school.

Looking back, summer breaks for me were nothing less than a patchwork of metaphors- amber coloured evenings laced with the sound of laughter, too many hands in one single basket of mangoes, my grandmother and her lullabies, wishes whispered upon dandelion fluffs, the sea and the sunshine. everyday blessed me with a new story of its own and i count each of these stories as my most treasured memories,

–cherishes Bidisha P. Kashyap from Guwahati, Assam.

 

These days of leisure which were supposed to spin off by laziness playing the role of protagonist goes on to start with your mother switching off the Air-Conditioner (AC) or fan and waking you up vigorously. Once awake, there’s no scope that any of your family members would find you in the house anymore. You hurriedly brush your teeth, push down a slice of bread into your mouth and boom! You directly run down to the ground floor to catch up with the buddies from the same housing society or nearby areas and decide on the games to play the whole day till the sun sucks all of the Glucon-D in your body.

On some days, you lazily lie on your bed while your mind goes on a stroll with Shikari Shambu within the colorful, twisted lanes of Tinkle comics; a golden era of innate happiness without the aid of social media and mobile phones. The cravings for a dozen sweet-sour mangoes take birth within you; a desire that a single mango handed down by your mother cannot satisfy. The longing for a frizzy Kala-Khatai would grow with the passing of each minute, eagerly waiting for the seller to set up his stall in the afternoon. You decide on your choice of flavour before going up to the seller only to reconsider your decision when you see those vibrant colours gleaming in front of your eyes. After fighting battles with your own self on the choice of flavour, you decide on one and you see the seller doing his magic. You suck into the colourful ice and the soothing water snakes down your throat to calm down the heat burning inside you.

Sometimes there is a desperate desire to go back in time and wait in anticipation till the bell rings on the last day of school before summer break. The memories of enjoying summer break in our grandparent’s village,playing in the rain,eating mangoes on the porch and kicking aside studies to live a peaceful life hit you hard now as you watch them from a distance

–states Mridusmita Barman.

The vacation would remain incomplete without a trip to your grandparents’ abode in which the walls speak of love and objects resonate memories of the past. You listen to their stories; some vibrate with patriotism, some with the innocence of your parent’s childhood narrations. You move away from the hustle and bustle of the city life to embrace the quietness of the abode, romanticising the peace and trying to pack a bottle of it when you return back to the city lights that cast a fainter light than the fireflies that you chased down in your grandpa’s kitchen garden.

Amidst the warmth of the summer fairies and the evenings dyed in raspberry shades, you suddenly realise the never-ending summer vacations are about to get over. You turn your eyes towards your study table to see a pile of assignments stacked at one corner; to cry and crib about spending the holidays in a more productive manner.

Unfortunately, all of these memories now feel like an utopian dream; washed away like the dust resting on the old photograph frames by the monsoon rains of time.

 

Read Also: “Delhi Rains: Evenings of Nostalgia and Love

 Featured Image Credits: Sukriti Singh for DU Beat.

 

Himasweeta Sarma

[email protected]

 

Journalism has been called the “first rough draft of history”. D.U.B may be termed as the first rough draft of DU history. Freedom to Express.

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