The hottest day of the year

On the first day of my summer holiday, I woke up sweating and said to myself, this must be the hottest day in history. Concerned and soaked, I went into the bathroom and threw powder all over my body. I thought my vacation in India would be relaxing; I had imagined doing my holiday homework and eating delicious food.

Confused and worried, I ran and turned on the TV to hear the announcer echo my thought: “Good morning and welcome to today’s weather broadcast. This morning, we have recorded temperatures exceeding 50 degrees Celsius. Today is likely to be the hottest day on earth.”

I decided to venture onto my porch and saw that all the coconut trees and foliage had wilted and were drooping over the houses and the nearby roads. Horrified, I stepped onto the concrete veranda, scorching my feet. "YOOOWW," I yelped like a passenger on a KSRTC bus, and leapt back against the wall. Squash! With a sudden realisation I looked at my clothes which were now covered with an array of different paint colours, given that we had just painted the house.

"Crikey, mate, alright now," I exclaimed, shuffling my feet through the house and tracking hues of white and red coloured paint like a dog who had jumped into a muddy puddle.

Running to the bathroom to wash my clothes, I turned on the tap and realised that there was no water as the well had dried up. Fuming now, I leaped through the house like a kangaroo and desperately looked for my sandals but could not find them. Not to mention there were about 1 billion- billion-septillion mosquitoes who had the audacity to try to come and harvest blood from me.

As I returned to the front porch, I saw a heaping pile of rubber that was slithering around the porch, melted by the heat. Out of the corner of my eye there was a quick movement; it was a child running down the road beyond my house, crying and being chased by his mother. At that instant I thought that he was throwing a fit but looking at the mother I saw an eerie face resembling that of a clown. I realised at second glance that the make-up on the mother’s face had melted due to the severe heat, which terrified her child.

Desperate to escape the heat, I ran across the road and onto the dirt path that led to the river, hoping for a good plunge to refresh myself. However as I ran forward, I thought longingly of the classroom at school with its ceiling fans.

 The heat started getting the better of me. Out of the corner of my eye I saw smoke-like figures changing shape but every time I glanced in that direction there was nothing to see, only a couple of piles of mud. After what seemed like ages I reached the river steps. I happened to see an elderly fisherman.

"Very hot!" I panted.

" सर, मैं आपको यह बताने की कोशिश कर रहा हूं कि यह नदी सूख गई है और मछलियां अब तैर नहीं रही हैं." said the fisher with a gloomy face.  He added, " Sir, I am trying to tell you that this river is dried up and fish is no swimming anymore."

I looked at him raised an eyebrow and nodded. Sweat drooling down my body, I continued along the road and snooped out a modern cafe with solar panels on the roof. I ran across the concrete road, pain searing through my feet, and opened the café door, hoping for some fan or AC as by now I was starting to get nauseous. Flinging open the door, I was greeted with a fan, but to my dismay I was instantly kicked out of the property by the owner who muttered, “Smell.” Looking around me in all directions, searching for a spot to cool off, mirages and wilted plants were all I could see. Then suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder: "Sir, where are you from, UK?" the stranger asked.

I blurted out, "Australia" and he gestured toward his vehicle and drove me home in his weird three-wheeled contraption that I later learned is called an “auto rickshaw.”

When I got home, I rang up my father. In the middle of the conversation, momentarily distracted, I stepped on the rubber glue on my porch, making a sound like a snail being squinched under my feet. I had to look down to see what was going on. When I looked down, burning rubber shot up into my nose and eye. I yelled and snorted, somehow insulting my father with some language that I didn't even know; he hung up.

At that point, suffering beyond my limit, the noise I made sounded like a drowning kangaroo. Simultaneously I fell over and kicked the family dog. The combination of both of our sounds--my screaming and snorting, and the dog’s howling--attracted a vulture, which dived out of the sky, searching for its mate.

I tried running around to the back of my compound, but inadvertently tripped a passing crockery seller. Escaping down the road, I fell into a roadside restaurant, knocking over the head cook and spilling rice and curries all over us. Through the madness I managed to slip away and resume my running but was immediately greeted by an angry pack of dogs snarling at me. I sprinted the other way; for a second I looked back to see the dogs and fell headfirst into a pit in the road. Half buried in a food pit I couldn't help but gag.

Suddenly around the corner a pan came flying, hitting one of the dogs. The dogs fled in fear as two men came galloping by, followed by policemen.

"I will not be taken hostage!!" I wailed as I jumped over a wall. As I looked back at my pursuers, my heart came out of my mouth and back in a couple times.

"ARaaaghhh" echoed my voice as I fell down a well that was on the other side of the wall. The police came and looked at me and said some gibberish that sounded like Martian language. As I hit the bottom-splash! -that was the happiest moment of my life. I had finally found water.

As the sun fell to a well-deserved sleep, I was rescued from the well and brought new dry clothes. The electricity was on, and the AC pumping. I made my way to the bed and lay down, turned on my laptop and searched for holiday tickets to Antarctica. “60% off!? Oh this is really cool!”