Summer Daze

We went to Haleji Lake this one time in 2015. I can hardly remember the journey my family and I took to reach the lake, save for the rocky roads and the wild grass, but somewhere in my dusty old brain lie memories of times that were simpler. Times when the love was real and the excitement of us children touched the heights of the clear blue sky, littered with pulled strands of cotton. I can remember Imran chacha cooking freshly caught fish on a rusty old stove, my mother helping Shazia and Ghazala chachi to set plates, glasses and cutlery across the traditional red and white checkered picnic blanket and my dad and I looking out at the grey-blue waters of Haleji lake with the sun in our eyes and the wind in our hair on that hot summer day. God, what a day it was. Thank goodness we had parked our cars in the shade of the palm trees so that once we packed up and left, we could feel the AC blasting cold air straight at our faces rather than the steaming hot seats burning our bums up through our clothes.

Sometimes when I’m lying in bed, I close my eyes and go back in time to that mid-summer July and to this day, I can still feel the harsh sting of the SevenUp giving my body instant relief and the beads of sweat rolling down the nape of my neck, just as I once sat on the hard wooden boards on the bridge above Haleji Lake, sheltering my food from the greedy flies whilst feasting on the masala fish and getting all my hands dirty in the process.

That’s when I realize how much I’ve grown, how time has passed us all by in a blur, how we have lived and died over and over again in this rollercoaster ride we have decided to call life and how much I miss those times when we were a few years younger, relatively brighter and much less busier than we are today.

But we’re tired now. Our muscles ache and the heat drains us of all energy, especially in the summers when it hasn’t rained yet and all the plants are parched, withering, tired in their pots because they just can’t stand the weather. We stay cooped up in our homes, lying exasperated under AC’s that struggle to chill our rooms and spend our time reminiscing old memories that will never come back again because we are old. The age of innocence has long since faded and what lies ahead is an era of responsibility that comes after every sunny, carefree summer and swallows the earth like a giant cloud ready to burst open and water the seeds of ambition we have sowed in the process of growing up.