Rama Moondra

To me. Summer is a season of joy. I am sure, not many would agree to this. When you are an inch close to being gone and burnt to ashes given to forty-six degrees of heat, my statement may sound either contemplation of a vacation or a neurotic heat disorder.

 Trust me it is neither. It is another blissful way of “Hopelessly optimistic” my school of thought.

 And why not? Which other season brings you the sheer pleasure of eating mangoes for dinner? The juicy-fruity watermelons and oranges in amazing colorful hue  remind me of life yet to be lived is going to be similar. Colorful and sweet.

 The prizewinner is of course, Ice –Golas. Read them slush if you wish to but let me confess, nights after nights walking near River Thames in London, sitting next to River Sean in Paris and eating orange slush with friends in both places in so called summers, I have longed to be back home and eat real Ice gratings dipped in fragrant rose syrup.

 A few things in life do not change and thank heaven for small mercy. Summers have not changed and so is my attraction of bounty it brings.No wonder, when I got a call from my dear friend Neil to be back in the summertime in Europe, he stated,” Mad or what, summer in India?” my reaction was,” Mad or what, summer in India.”

 Where else…

My travel experiences have been my personal possesions..till he suggested. So, here it is…my first public sharing is dedicated to Harshal Rao. A Young software engineer from Baroda.

The reflection from glass wall is clear and pristine..so near yet so far away.

.The unsurpassable, dominating and spellbinding aussie zeal of life captured every moment of my travelling n my heart….The fierce independence of australians is worth dying for.

The day is clear n sunny outside on Sydney Kingsmith Airport..the que is long and people are waiting for quarantine checks.just looking around and saw a sikh officer.

“‘Can I go out..I m not carrying anything to quarantine” I smiled at him..A straight answer up on my face..”how do we know that” ..I knew I m in aussieland..
So my turn ” Do you think, this small bag and backpack can accomodate food for six weeks? N you have to trust me”

My conviction works always…He looked at me, smiles n stamps my pass..n said the most important thing to carry when you travel around..SMILE…

Melania is first aussie contact, waiting for me ..Smart, charming businesswoman. She is Ian ‘s  friend so goes extra mile to make me feel comfortable..

Taxi driver smiled at me..had to ..after all Indians connect.

Mel’s home is in Hurtsville. Quiet n tranquil suburb of sydney which has dominating population of chinese people.Late evening already n I sat down admiring lovely home she has, over tea.I love cooking n Mel made sure I get every chance of proving my skill..

Night brings cold feeling n dry aspen  leaves cracking under my feet while I walked..A smitten feeling comes back. I remember walking under stars on a freezing night in Edinburgh. Countries are so similar..humans are so identical and yet so many differences.

My next day is real brush with Aussie weather..hot, scorching sun …walking through botanical gardens,Mel talks about her views about australians. Quite sharp though… N just when I walked ahead..mesmerizing…the first look at Opera House is amazing…Its something which is called picture perfect..

Its very surprising but an overwhelming feeling clouds my thoughts…I know this feeling..Its the same,looking at Big Ben in London, standing under Eiffel tower n looking at sunset from Tajmahal..Magnitude is significant and precisely the reflection is from the Glass wall.

So near yet so far away.