Wavy heatwaves—
Hot yet dry wind touches your face
Chirping birds sitting in their cloudy nest.
Giggles and laughter of the kids.

Under the Beaming Sunglade—
Playing a game, clothes full of dirt
And shouting — peaking loud.
If you imagine this picture
Sitting in your office shade
That's the vision of summer vacation
A memory that never tends to fade.

Wearing chappals bigger than your feet
You felt gigantic,
Like you did a herculean deed.

A time when Imagination was a toy,
We all played with.
Rocketing a pencil with mom's hair band.
Fixed between our tiny fingers.

Having 2 Rupees in our pocket
Oh! That's a fair tip.

And our dad's tummy used to act like an airstrip
Where, us—the idiotic tiny tots— land their paper planes
We cracked jokes with him
Yes! I remember they all were very lame.

How strange it is!!
Today's introverts and extroverts
Back then we were all the same.
Shy, quiet, naughty
And with a little bit of might.

Working under this comforting conditioned air.
Disregarded—
Tell me—
Does it seem fair,
Why I still feel like that summer vacations were cool?
Tiny hands together in that breezy air.