Samir Shukla
By Samir Shukla
It’s here. A gift from Mother Earth. Most people wouldn’t consider this a gift and don’t like it when it arrives. I’ve been looking forward to it for months. Awaiting its arrival. It’s not wrapped and doesn’t come in neat boxes. It is a state of being, arriving slowly and then suddenly, here it is, in full force. This lovely gift is finally here. Today. The first day of this year hitting a temperature of 90 degrees.
What gift did you think I was talking about?
The temps are expected to go up as the week progresses. While others are complaining, I’m rejoicing. I’m heading outside to dance in the hot breeze. The swelter suits me. I’m celebrating the return of summer in June, leading to the lovely July kind of heat. Skin sizzling, throat seeking moisture, time moving slowly. Any piece of clothing you wear wants to cling to you like a child.
Bring it on. When that first heat wave of the summer hits, like the Earth releasing its held inner breath, the sun pounding us self-proclaimed rulers of the planet into submission, my bones finally thaw fully from the previous winter. They loosen and embrace the warmth, absorb it and store it away for the inevitable return of winter and its doldrums. This gift keeps giving for weeks. By the time I get too hot, most other people have passed out.
A midnight sky full of July stars is for me the most spiritual time. The skies seem brighter with starlight, fireworks alight the country’s birthday and other celebrations, and the woods twinkle with fireflies’ happiness.
The bookends, spring and fall, are gorgeous, of course, but summer is the true body and the soul. Every winter I look forward to its humid charms. Winter should come with a fast forward button.
I emerge from my shell and turn into my sadhu avatar during this mid-year season. In Hinduism, sadhus are ascetic men, spiritual beings, monks. They have separated from worldly desires and given up material needs. They become nomads, teachers, seekers.
I have shaken the dust off my hot season garb, aka shorts and t-shirts, my summer sadhu wardrobe, and now all I want to do is roam the realms, become one with its evolutionary divineness.
Sadhus are an ancient concept in the ancient land of India. Some, as tales have been told in the long past, were able to transport to other dimensions. I just want to beam over to the beach one moment and the mountains next. Gather with the extended family for a reunion or float about in endless outdoor musical gatherings. Starlit concerts on a clear summer night are the stuff of dreams. There is nothing like it. I feel most alive when music envelopes me as twilight fades into night. The vibe spread into the universe.
Today I lingered in the woods, near a small pond.
A dragonfly hovered around me near the pond while I thought of transporting to other zones. Who knows? It could have been a spiritual entity, a fellow sadhu, inviting me to join in the flight. I imagined being a mini living helicopter, hovering around the area, and then zipping off to lands afar. I tossed a small stick into the pond and the ripples expanded into circular rings, seemingly opening a portal. Hmmm. Maybe I should just dive in.
The vast majority of youthful memories of humans involves the hot season. Even in the perennially hot country like India, where I spent the first decade of my life, summer breaks were the prime connections and memory markers with visits to grandparents, uncles and aunties’ homes.
I used to long for a year-round summer, but then the anticipation of this time of year would diminish. It wouldn’t be the same. No, it’s better to have seasons so this classical memory making time of the year is fully appreciated.
July is a spin month, turning to the other half of the year, while I land on the other side of the numbers game, as another single digit gets added to the total of my summers on this globe. This time of year, I strip down to minimal clothing to dance with heat, yes, but also, I strip down to mental bareness letting the sun, stars, nature and the warm breeze do its cleansing.
The dragonfly zips by again, giving me one last chance to join in. I’m good right here, I tell it, through the wave of my hand. The pond’s ripples are settled again, the portal closed, the still water reflects the surroundings while I reflect on the inner being. Time is moving slow. A few minutes are spent feeling wholly alive, in the moment, lounging in the realm of the mind, blanketed by the happiness of the hot season.
This mid-year season, if you see me sauntering about somewhere in our magical world, lost in the ether of heat, in shorts and sandals, just send me a mental communique, astral vibrations if you will, across the humid dome.
I’ll connect with your signal, my fellow summer sadhu.
Samir Shukla is the Editor of Saathee Magazine
Contact: samir@saathee.com
X / Twitter: @ShuklaWrites
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