Bring back those summers
when all I did was read books
and snooze under the noisy fan;
**** on ice pops
until my lips went numb;
gorge on black jamuns,
rolling the pits over my tongue;
listen to the radio cycling
the same twelve songs…

It was all I did.
It was enough.

I still do the things I did then –
I read,
laze around
with my earphones on,
eat what I like,
and do whatever else I want.

Yet I can’t shake the restlessness –
It’s not enough.

Summer remains the same.
I am the one who has changed.