The bloom of winters is not fading away even though we had our customary festivities i.e. Lohri, Makar Sankranti that announce the onset of warmer days ahead. New Delhi has become the cathedral of mist and heroically steps into the league of western urban climatic realities.
It happens so may times that your touch phone requires sustained efforts as you finger pulps, frozen cold, fail to evoke the senses out of that intuitive-gone-numb touch screen.
While driving, your pupils remain mid-dilated to capture the maximum visual field, courtesy the smog. So many penurious people, who inhabit in footpaths and streets, succumb to hypothermia while we continue to liver our quota of saturnalia.
Those of us who have been non smokers attempt to exhale in twilight to visualize what it likes to see the impression of smoke coming out of our lips.
The days have shrunk considerably in length and the people working in night-shifts might feel cheated by the elongated spree of winters this year; the hubbub of night fails to settle. I read in newspaper that this prolonged duration of winter this year is attributed to La-Nina effect, an ocean-atmosphere phenomenon. Is the climate giving us a clue for some precise messages?
The incessant binge of freshly brewed coffee, the chatter of colleagues over unending supply of roasted cashew nuts and home made pakoras (the fried snack made by batter of gram flour), the picturesque surroundings when even the ordinary looks carve out a memorable artistic expression – a photographer’s delight, the shattered and shriveled appearance of those living out in the open, the helpless stray dogs, the feeling of being involved in cloud computing in the office and in cloud commuting when driving back home, the incredible number of hours spent beneath the quilts and cushions, the aggressive beams of the cars that work overtime due to Sun’s leave without notice, the terror of touching something metallic with bare fingers – Winters give us a different slice of life.