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The harsh summer

Summer is on us like the harsh light of reality after one wakes from a pleasant dream. In our country, it is the steadiest season, always arriving dot on time, and overstaying its welcome till October-November. Never has summer failed to scorch in India.

Shakespeare rightly called April the cruellest month, though this was not quite what he meant! The 'rudra avatar' of the mighty sun is on full display, burning and scalding everything in its ambit. Birds and animals on the streets are the worst hit, thirsting for water everywhere. Humans have it no better, though the well-off have the option of hiding indoors in AC comfort.

As usual, the man or woman on the street suffers the most, whether it is your door-to-door salesman, or traffic constable, postmen or vegetable vendors. For them, it is really a question of sweating it out for their bread and butter.

And then, we have the infamous power cuts (which have no relation to depletion of political power)! Load shedding literally makes us shed bucketfulls of sweat in the span of two-three hours. And when water dries up in taps, it is really the last straw. Nothing can be worse, you want to cry out!

But we still survive, sweating, toiling, and exhausted, and live to see another harsh summer day. Our only hope is the distant monsoon, more likely than not, to play truant and miss its arrival date by a fortnight or more.

And this year, we have the added heat of the elections to make it really unbearable. Our politicians are really made of different stuff to be able, not only to campaign in this heat, but also carry on full-throated mud-slinging! God give this country a cool-headed and warm-blooded leader who will ensure that the man on the street gets better conditions of living, and all of us get a brighter future.
 

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