As Cole Porter said, it's too damn hot. Where there is fire, there is an implication of ice, and where there is summer, there is a dream of ice-cream.

As kids, ice-cream occupied a central place in the tuck menu, the icier the better. Every school uniform has borne those neon stains, like hickeys left by the ice-bite of an orange or raspberry bar, a kala khatta baraf ka gola, or further back, that slab of orange or green ice in a plastic sleeve called pepsi
or chuski. But, nothing was as dreamy as that rare treat: an ice-cream sundae.