When summers are blooming,
I remember sounds far way cuckoo cooing…
Those nostalgic moments of summer vacation,
When only getting up and playing was motivation…
Where innocence was at peak,
The ghost of present is being mystique…
Why am I being nostalgic of this summers,
The memories are sung in my head by drummers…
Song of heat embracing,
Those smell of mangos are amazing…
When evenings are long with sunlight
The game of cricket can go on without any plight...
Where Mornings are bright,
And we are soaking our sadness in light…
When summers are blooming,
I remember sounds far way cuckoo cooing…
