Metamorphosis

An insignificant paragraph in the newspaper mentioned that "the city had registered a rise in daytime temperature," a high temperature of 38 degrees Celsius had been recorded yesterday. Compared to the normal expected temperature of 34, this sharp rise heralded the beginning of a long summer. It is the same each year, the cool first few weeks of the New year give way to warm rays of the sun right after Sankranti. Nature then turns on the thermostat on the occasion of Mahashivratri, which was celebrated last week. Now comes the final whiff of moderate heat before the sun god, ably aided by the wind, takes a deep breath on the day of Holi and showers us with a great puff of hot air along with the delicate colors of spring.

I don't need a weather report or a thermometer to tell me when summer arrives. My internal sensing mechanism kicks in around this time each year. Severe pain in the neck and shoulders, migraines and sinus pains are the signs that help me get into my metamorphosis mode. I am not a caterpillar that spins out of a chrysalis to become a butterfly but more like a lame bumble bee who turns into a bat each summer. From a diurnal creature I turn into a nocturnal one. I strictly stay indoors during the hours of 9 a.m. to 6 p.m. and venture out tentatively only when twilight sets in. In case I absolutely need to step out during the day, I cover my head with a cap or my faithful dupatta, wrap those brand new Fastrack sunglasses around my eyes and armed with a cold bottle of water, I get into my air-conditioned car to get to my destination.

I give up my favorite morning cup of tea and take to unlimited servings of lime juice, coconut water and buttermilk instead. I eat less, obsess about hydration and SPF. I pray for the monsoons to arrive. And if all else fails, I leave the city for cooler locations. Last year I was fortunate to run off to the US. Where can I go this summer?

Perhaps the weatherman has sent me a veiled message with the weather report - time to make travel arrangements!!