Savouring an ice gola in summer

Indulging in an ice gola - the fine shavings of ice crackling in one's mouth as one tastes the sweet chill of syrups it is bathed in - is one of the true, great tingles of life. As its other onomatopoeic name suggests, the chuski is the taste of childhood that has been grown on a stick. For us used to sweltering summers, this is our portable snowfall, our microclimatic blizzard in mouthfuls.

Even the mere sight of a vibrant, multicoloured ice gola cart evokes anticipation that we dare not forget even in adulthood. As the chuski vendor deftly shaves a block of ice, transforming it into a mound of crystals that the likes of Swarovski can only try to emulate, the tantalising aroma of fruity syrups mixed with the cold sigh of ice fills the air below one's nose and inside one's mouth. This is not biting winter, but winter in bites.

With every bite, an ice cap melts, first breaking off against the mouth's palate. Enjoying this solidified slush is not just about the taste of cool but celebrating its very jagged, precarious, mini-mountain face. The shavings, or small heaps of crushed ice, are frost held by human warmness. Kissing an ice gola, for those in the know, is the ultimate chill.