Let’s be honest. There’s no official date for it in the calendar, no government circular declaring it a holiday. And yet, we all know it when we feel it. It’s that one specific evening when the air, which for months has been thick and heavy with heat, suddenly carries a different note a whisper of coolness, a hint of rain, a promise of change. This is the last day of summer .
It’s not the meteorological end or the astronomical one. It’s a feeling. It’s the day you realise the sun is setting just a little bit earlier than it used to. It’s the moment you hear the first persistent call of a festive-season insect you haven’t heard in months. For me, it’s always the scent of petrichor – that earthy smell of the first proper monsoon rain hitting dry soil – that signals the curtain call.
This day, this feeling, is a strange cocktail of emotions, isn’t it? There’s a gentle sadness, a sweet nostalgia for the long, lazy days, the taste of mangoes, the freedom of summer holidays. But there’s also a quiet thrill of anticipation for what’s next. It’s a collective, unspoken pause button we all press. And what fascinates me is why this transition hits us so profoundly, year after year.
It’s Not Just a Day, It’s a Feeling (And Science Agrees)
You’re not just imagining it. That deep, gut-level feeling associated with the end of a season is a very real psychological phenomenon. Our brains are hardwired to recognize patterns and mark the passage of time. The end of a season as dominant as summer is a major chapter break in our personal, unwritten book of the year.
What you’re likely experiencing is a powerful dose of nostalgia. For years, psychologists viewed nostalgia as a kind of sickness, a sign of depression. But modern research, like studies highlighted in publications likePsychology Today, shows it’s actually a vital emotional resource. It connects us to our past, reinforces our sense of identity, and makes us feel more socially connected. The last day of summer is a massive nostalgia trigger. It throws us back to:
- Childhood holidays at Nani’s house.
- The frantic last-minute rush to finish summer homework.
- Long evenings spent playing cricket in the gully until the streetlights came on.
- The simple joy of a dripping kulfi on a scorching afternoon.
This isn’t just wistful daydreaming; it’s your brain giving you a warm, comforting hug. It’s a reminder of who you were and how you got here. This end of summer feeling is also about acknowledging an ending. Human beings crave closure. Marking the end of summer, even subconsciously, allows us to process the time that has passed and prepare mentally for the next phase. It’s a reset button, and that’s a powerful thing.
The Great Indian Summer Goodbye | More Than Just Mangoes and Monsoons
Here’s the thing that makes this experience so unique in India. Unlike in the West, where the autumnal equinox officially marks summer’s end, our “last day” is beautifully ambiguous and wonderfully local.
For someone in Kerala, it might be the day the relentless downpour of the Southwest Monsoon finally begins, transforming the world into a lush, green paradise. For a student in Delhi, it might be the last week of their two-month vacation, a period filled with a frantic mix of fun and the dread of returning to school. For a family in Kolkata, the first hint of a cool breeze signals that the oppressive humidity is breaking, and the countdown to Durga Pujo has truly begun.
It’s tied to our senses:
- The Smell: The last day the searing ‘Loo’ winds blow across the northern plains.
- The Taste: The day you go to the market and the mango seller says, “Bas, saab, this is the last of the good stock.” A mini-tragedy.
- The Sound: The deafening silence when the drone of the air conditioner finally gives way to the hum of the ceiling fan.
This fluidity is what makes it so personal. It’s a date we each circle on our own internal calendar. The shift is so profound it can make you stop and think, even if you’re just reading the day’s news about theKate Middleton blondehair debate or some other fleeting distraction. The change in seasons feels more real, more permanent.
How to Embrace the End-of-Summer Blues (Instead of Fighting Them)
So, you’re feeling a little melancholic. A bit blue. What do you do? My advice: don’t fight it. Lean into it. This isn’t sadness you need to cure; it’s a transition you get to experience. Think of it as emotional mindfulness. Here’s a little guide on what to do on the last day of summer :
1. Conduct a “Sensory Audit”: Go for a walk. What do you see, smell, and hear that is unique to this very moment of transition? The quality of the light? The types of flowers in bloom? The humidity on your skin? Acknowledge it. Take a mental snapshot.
2. Perform a Small Ritual: Create a tiny ceremony to mark the occasion. It could be as simple as having that one last “summer” meal (aamras-puri, anyone?), listening to a playlist of songs that defined your summer, or writing down three of your favourite memories from the past few months. Rituals give us a sense of control and meaning.
3. Plan for the “Next”: The best cure for the sadness of an ending is the excitement of a beginning. Use this moment to get excited about the coming season. In India, that means looking forward to the vibrant festival season. Start thinking about your Diwali cleaning, plan a trip for the cooler months, or just get excited about sipping hot chai on a rainy balcony.
4. Don’t Just Scroll, Connect: It’s easy to get lost in the noise of daily life, whether it’s work stress or news about complex issues like theSEPTAtransit system. Instead, call a friend or family member you associate with summer. Share a memory. That feeling of summer nostalgia is a powerful connector.
A little bit of seasonal change anxiety is perfectly normal. By consciously engaging with the transition, you transform it from a passive feeling of loss into an active moment of reflection and appreciation.
Looking Ahead | The Promise Hidden in the First Autumn Breeze
And that’s the final, beautiful twist in this story. The last day of summer isn’t just an ending. It’s a doorway.
Every last scoop of mango ice cream makes way for the first warm plate of Gajar ka Halwa. Every hot, dusty afternoon gives way to a cool, pleasant evening perfect for a stroll. The end of the summer blockbuster season in cinemas paves the way for the prestige films of the festival awards season.
It’s the beautiful, cyclical nature of life playing out in front of us. It teaches us a crucial lesson: that endings aren’t just about loss, they are necessary for new beginnings to take root. Without the monsoon, there would be no harvest. Without the end of summer’s oppressive heat, there would be no joy in the mild winter sun.
So when you feel that first hint of change in the air, don’t be sad that summer is over. Smile. Take a deep breath. A new chapter, with its own unique magic, is just about to begin.
Frequently Asked Questions About the End of Summer
Is it normal to feel sad when summer ends?
Absolutely. It’s often called the “end-of-summer blues.” It’s a mix of nostalgia for the fun you’ve had, a little anxiety about the return to routine (work or school), and our natural human reaction to endings. It’s a very common and valid feeling.
What is the actual “last day of summer” in India?
Unlike countries with four distinct seasons, India doesn’t have a single, fixed date. It’s a gradual transition that varies by region. It’s generally considered to be when the monsoon season properly sets in, which can be anytime from late May in the south to early July in the north.
How can I make the transition to the next season easier?
The best way is to embrace the coming season. Start incorporating activities you love about autumn or winter into your routine. Plan for upcoming festivals, switch up your home decor with warmer colours, or simply enjoy the relief from the intense heat.
What are some good “end of summer” activities to do?
Create a simple ritual. Have a final “summer” barbecue or picnic. Make a photo album or a digital slideshow of your summer memories. Go for one last swim if you can. Or simply write down what you enjoyed most about the season to reflect on later.
