It's been more than 15 years since I've had one of these. There used to be an Arun Icecream parlour at the corner of CMH Road and Double Road Indira Nagar. The dinners at the Shanti Sagar opposite were topped off by one of these delightful treats. The colours of the Italian espresso: Strawberry, Vanilla and Orange and Coffee Icecreams crowning a slice of nutty cake. If nostalgia was an ice cream cake, this would be a good way to get reacquainted.
Arun Icecreams disappeared in the face of changing markets but I now see them making a comeback through small neighbourhood stores. They've picked a good time to get back into the market too. The cassata is the first thing to go out of stock everyday. Makes one wonder if the conspiracies behind climate change have some merit. Hold that thought; I've got to get back to my Icecream cake before it melts in the punishing heat.
Something I'd written back in 2011, but forgot to do anything with. Rediscovered when rummaging through the Drafts folder on an uncomfortably warm Sunday afternoon.
I'm rushing through closing doors, Yawning off the workplace bores, I can hardly lift the oars, To row my weary way home.
I'm missing my daily chores, I'm slipping on wet floors, I can hardly lift the oars, To row my weary way home.
Stiff in many places; in some plain sores, But I'm quite happy, to be learning so much more, I can hardly lift the oars, To row my weary way home.
The weather is very warm, I miss the cool months, Sunkissed blossoms, and they fall to my feet, Bittersweet memories, and unchapped lips, Just like London, except for the fish and chips.
I remember walking back home, And watching those blossoms fall, Fast forward or fast backward a few months I'd do it all.
In an half-hearted attempt to trace its roots, I get a sense that I was overworked and tired from lack of sleep. I remember working 12-hour shifts and pulling 50 hour workweeks. I suppose it was all worth it, in the end.