"Brrr! Wish it was a bit warmer.”

I used to think this way in those chilly winter months, November to January, and now the summer is here, and I'm wishing it was December. Well, what's one to do when that's the way we are. When we're settled on wishing for something different, we change colours the minute we get what we wished for.

The temperature in Bangalore is around 35°C. I go to sleep in a sweat, I wake up in a sweat. I bathe in a sweat. I spend the whole day sweating it out. Psychiatrists would have quite a field day observing the 'paranoia' of society during the summer months.

Subject observed to be in a state of constant fear.
Indications: constant perspiration, cursing, muttering.

These are not cold sweats though. They're warm and unwelcome.

Adding to the woes of people are the mosquitoes. The summer seem to bring them out in full force. They're here, there and everywhere you go. They seem to follow you around like faithful dogs – dogs that spread itchy skin, malaria and a load of other freebies. Damn, they're under the table right now, biting me on the back of my calves... YOW! (scratch -scratch -scratch -scratch -scratch -scratchscratchscratchscratchscratch)

If there ever was a worse concatenation of circumstances (as Bertie put it) this would be it. The fan in my bedroom hasn't been repaired despite numerous complaints. The damn thing seems to run only at a speed which would be a sort of merry go-round for the mosquitoes. This is at max. speed. Maybe I should start charging them for the drinks and amusements I provide. They're taking me for granted, I feel. Ingrates!