Will I be more interesting after my twenties, is it too late or way too early to fathom Calvino. Revolutionary Road is one beautifully written depressing book I will never recommend to anyone…seriously read it, it’s lovely. Dan Chelotti ‘s X is mesmerizing, these lines haunt : ‘Why do I expect magic only when things break down?’ , I re read ‘The Great Gatsby’ , it was even more exquisite this time as I had Di’Caprio’s lovely voice and face swimming and prancing through the text. I must have chomped through a million cherries this summer, and yes 50 oz of coffee a day is a bit much I realize, 36 oz works just fine. For some reason I have 250 followers on Twitter, it’s funny because I have been inactive on it for almost a year. And do you know what makes reading Cosmicomics easier, reading Calvino’s’ Six Memos for the Next Millennium ‘alongside it, it’s Sparknotes of sorts, and that my friend is a dangling modifier. Go figure.I really can’t run. I tried, but my huffing gets very disconcerting to people around, especially when it turns into a shrill wheezing while I continue stomping and it seems I am about to have a seizure; even though I don’t feel as bad as I look at the time. Boston is a city of seriously seasoned runners. The other day a guy took me in his arms thinking I needed to be rescued, he was cute, I took a few extra seconds to tell him I was fine. Also it’s so much easier and practical to carry a book on a walk than on a run, you don’t feel the need to be rescued very often. My walks are longer, much longer, thank you long summer days. Boston is a different city in the summer, not home. I feel like a tourist as I make my way to Charles five times a week.Summer doesn’t belong here. You cannot warm up to Boston summer as you can to its winter or embrace it with quite as much dignity. The dog days* make you hopeful, in winter all you want to do is get home and read a book with a steaming cup of coffee. Expectations are easier to manage in winters, a warm coat and good pair of gloves suffices. I feel obliged to quote Thoreau to balance my cynicism, ‘One must maintain a little bittle of summer, even in the middle of winter.’Summer is frivolous, never enough, a fine day but a memory, each day a beautiful stranger you hope to get to know. It leaves you wanting this summer; it is like the circus in town, it brings joy, lot of entertainment and distraction. The whole town talks about it, goes to it, frolicks but after a while the town wants it to leave. It is difficult to sit quiet at home, or be serious about anything when the circus is in town.The Calcutta Chromosome by Amitav Ghosh was an engaging read, a disappointing end but kept me busy for two whole days, intersperse that with Camus’ The Plague, and what you have is an intriguing scuba diving expedition with the air pressure not quite right. There’s this lovely property in Cornwall, United Kingdom I wish to spend a week of my summer someday, waking up to scones with strawberry jam and coffee, and view so majestically mystic. Chance upon some giants and piskies, romancing a Cornish folklore.I should explain the reference to Dog Days* above. In ancient Rome dog days was associated with a dog star called Sirius (As a Harry Potter fan this got me really excited, now we know why Sirius Black’s animagi was a shaggy black dog.). This Dog Star was believed to be only seen during the hot summer months of July and August. It never was. There’s also an allusion around dog days – an evil time, wine turning sour, dogs going mad and what not crap… I ignore such references, for I do not believe anything can be unpleasant or evil when being compared to a dog.I always leave Calvin and Hobbes an hour before sleep, few pages of Hitchhiker’s guide to Galaxy for midnight, a cup of Rooibos with honey, and sweet dreams it is.