Lassi, lattu, and lost summers

In the pre-tech era, we didn't trade our holidays for summer camps.

Last year, on the eve of my niece’s summer vacation, my sister-in-law informed me that a newly established children’s club in our city was organising a summer camp for interested children (or, rather, their interested parents). Without consulting my niece, her ambitious mother enrolled her in the much-advertised camp, depriving the little girl of the joyful vacant hours during her summer holidays.

As I pitied the little one, I couldn’t help but feel nostalgic about the charms of my own summer vacations. The summer break would often follow the gruelling days of examinations, and I would feel like a chained animal released from its yoke, free to roam merrily in the woods. For me, those woods were my nani’s (maternal grandmother) home, where I would eagerly spend my summer holidays.

I vividly recall packing my bag and rushing to my nani’s home for a summer bonanza. Those holidays were a time of rejuvenation, filled with energy and excitement. My coterie of cousins and I would wake up early, play cricket, and then indulge in indoor games like Carrom Board, Saanp-Sidi (Snake and Ladder), and Ludo. This was an era before mobile phones, video games, and digital toys had taken over our lives. In those days, we didn’t have the luxury of round-the-clock power supply. Long hours of power outages during the sultry summer days would leave us hot and humid.

To beat the scorching heat, our only defence were the humble handwoven fans. Bliss, however, prevailed even without the modern-day comforts! Gulping down big tumblers of home-made sweet lassi (buttermilk), we spent hours playing games and having fun. Painstakingly, I had mastered the skill of spinning the clay-made lattu (spinning top) with a finely woven thin rope. I had become such an expert that my lattu would spin longer than the lattus of the other contenders. Playing with marbles was a favourite pastime in the afternoons. In the evening, our gang would run amok in the streets and play games like hide and seek and chor-police (thief-police). Swinging from tree branches would transport us to a world of absolute joy.

My nani was a skilled storyteller. In addition to the popular bedtime tales, she would regale us with anecdotes from her own mischievous childhood beneath the starry sky. Leaving her home was always a tearful affair, like a newly-wed bride leaving home, but a generous uncle’s gift of a ‘big’ note – five or ten rupees – would ease all our parting pains!

Thankfully, our childhood was free from the pressures of a fast-paced life and cut-throat competition. We didn’t have the burden of attending classes during our summer vacations. Instead, we were free to enjoy our holidays, untethered from the demands of modern life. These days, it seems that children are not even given a break during their vacations. They are pushed to attend classes in calligraphy, abacus, spoken English, and more. Are we depriving our children of the real bliss of childhood?