I have irreversible damage done to my ears from listening to Nicki Minaj songs. I think her songs are a little too ahead of the times. Let’s wait another 50 years, come back and give it another go when we have the technology to decipher what she’s saying. The climate alternates between rain and hell these days. I sweat sitting down, through my eyelashes. I’m melting body fat for free. I should be thankful. The world is my sauna.
I want to talk a little bit more about Top Gun. Miles teller has been through a lot, hasn’t he? It started with that abusive drum teacher, and now it’s that new mustache in Top Gun. Tom Cruise on the other hand, is starting to look like dried meat.
I would like to take a minute to talk about a season that makes me hate life more than life itself. The time of the year when mercury rises, brings a lot of joy to a lot of people around the world. Not to me. Here, in Kolkata, summer has a different meaning. The striking similarity between the words ‘heat’ and ‘hate’ was no matter of coincidence, my friends. Summer means death. You knew it was coming, but every time it arrives I can’t help but ask nature “why do you hate me? why do you rape me through all the pores of my body?”. Life as a whole turns very sticky during the summer. Sweat is no longer confined to arm pits. There’s just a wet animal walking around, looking for an airconditioned space. I know the Earth goes through phases, just like you and me, but if I had any say in the matter, fucking summer needs some work.
Update: A few hours later. it was announced that A Super Cyclonic Storm called AMPHAN will hit Kolkata later in the day.
I am happy to report that the summer in Kolkata has yet again beaten it’s past records. The sun is doing a terrific job of melting away ice creams and dreams. If you don’t have an AC, well, the suicide prevention hotline doesn’t accept temperature-related calls for help but you can always try the nearest cold storage. Anyway, if you prefer to fight the heat, and burn outside, the trick is to keep moving.