Summer reveries from India

Caravansary for Freethinking Women

With every Amaltas tree lit up by dozens of bright chandeliers of sun-yellow blossoms that put the sun to shame and with every Gulmohar offering you, with a dainty smile, bright red parasols to shade you from the scorching sun on a hot summer noon – it is summer in this part of the world where I live.

It is summer – the perfect time for indoor homely pleasures – for a glass of violet colored drink of phalsa berries and for thick fresh curd beat with ice and milk cream and sugar called ‘lassi’ that I remember my grandmother was so fond of making. I still have faint memories of my summer vacations, when all schools and colleges would close and we would all pack up for a long stay at our grandmother’s old riverside house. Closing all the old windows and doors of our room and drawing all…

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