My God, It It You Who Have Summer, Indian Summer Of Chaitra, Vaisakha And Jyestha? Poem by Bijay Kant Dubey

My God, is it You who have made
This summer,
Indian summer
Sizzling, parching, burning,
Smoking and fuming it
Comes it summer,
Indian summer
Aggravating thirst,
Drying water bodies,
Making it hungry
And the dys seem not to end,
The sun a ball of fire
And it's hot and humid,
Thesiesta too is disturbing us,
Where to take a rest
When the loo keeps bowing,
Temperture keeps soaring, rising,
The heat-wave taking its spell?