Bird in a long Winter (I)

Good morning,

Winter has finally settled in my part of the world (if I may be so bold as to claim it). Today my city felt like one of those dewy, misty mornings of London I’ve only read about in books.

A dense, quiet fog wafts through the air and the world below my balcony seems to be in a standstill.

I can’t tell you the details of the world below because my eyes are forever fixated towards the sky. 

The sky from my balcony appears to be the lightest shade of blue. Like today the sky is too tired to gleam. Too exhausted to shine. And the sun, no sign of it. 

Before my mind plays its tricks and I’m reminded of the enormity of this world I step inside and try to warm my freezing feet; a quandary I face every December.

Failing to do so, I take a deep breath and open my laptop, typing solemnly and ready to tame another, jaded day. 

 

 

Love always,
Your blogger. 

Talk is Cheap

Every evening at six, I sit amidst a sea of people in a cafe farther down North. The air around me crackles with words I don’t follow. I can’t distinguish voices, so it sounds like a perpetual buzzing of the air. Mouths move, words are uttered but their meaning gets lost in a haze midway.

I take tiny, measured sips of my coffee, its warmth pulsating in my veins; it is my excuse for silence. The cubicle in which I sit is jammed with practiced smiles- not too much; not too little -and conspicuous gulps. The girl with a ruffled bow has her camera out already.

Someone utters something witty and our close knit huddle erupts in laughter. I don’t. My mind is befogged and I’m trying to focus on the label stuck to the bottle of hot sauce.
‘Manufactured in Hogsmeade.’ Peculiar.

I hook a finger in the collar of my turtleneck and pull, craning my neck slightly.
“Geez,” I glance at the sweater less arms around me, “doesn’t anybody else feel the brunt of December?” 

Someone nudges me on the side. I turn and behold a perfect set of eyebrows creased in confusion. Inquiringly, she jerks her head up a little (sensing that my mind was distracted) and attempts to pull me back into the hubbub of the group.

I smile reassuringly and pretend to listen but the buzzing continues. She grins and rejoins the conversation, triumphing at the outcome.
What are they talking about?

I get stuck on a boy opposite me. I wonder if anyone noticed the blotches of ink on his left hand. His eyes are puffy and shoulders are slouching. He looks exhausted and appears skinnier than the last I saw him. But he beams at everyone and clutches his mug tightly, holding on to the warmth he’s paying for.

I look away and peer through  the frosted window I chose to sit next to. The street outside is a greyish blur.
“From the other side of this translucent glass,” I muse, “we must be a blur too. Five silhouettes propped against the golden glow of a cafe.” 

Glancing above I follow a thin wire of dazzling yellow lights. They hang on rusted nails, hammered several Christmases ago.

I’m about to pursue the trail of lights when something happens. A voice hits me and the world zooms into sharp focus. I’m snapped back to clarity and the crisp sound of slurps and munches reaches me. The conversation is suddenly discernible.

“Did anybody notice the sky this evening? It was a distinct, rain-washed midnight blue and I could already see hazy outlines of stars appearing on the horizon when I walked here.” The scruffy boy opposite me sighs and looks around the table, hoping someone would mirror his spirit.

I smile at him feverishly.

See now the table has my attention.

Sweater Weather

Have you ever wondered how weather affects your mood? Like when the sun is glaring and heat strokes sweep the city, and you have to be out for some unavoidable errand, you are bound to feel sulky, don’t you? Nobody likes to get barbecued alive.

Then there’s the festive winters. Reminding us to sometimes stop and lay back, spend time with family. Perhaps that’s why the snow blocks the road? To force people to stay inside?
“Okay, you frenzied humans, it’s time you paused your work and stayed back!  Yes you Mr. Busy -Corporate-Man-with-a-Starbucks! GET BACK. No work today!” says the snow.

As we enter the doorway to Autumn, when the trees shed their leaves to remind us that it’s okay to start afresh every year. To let go of anything no longer significant in our life and give ourselves a spell of wintery break, and then welcome fresh greenery again, we find ourselves welcoming a new spell of season, Autumn.

I sat alone under a tree today and felt the weather change. The sun no longer felt corrosive, it was comforting. A gush of wind blew across me, causing the tree above to wave so frantically like it was being tickled. I felt the wind give me a warm embrace, reminding me of Autumn’s arrival.
And after what feels like a lifetime, I felt at peace, though momentarily.

Those who’ve been reading this blog for a while, might already be aware of this blogger’s irrevocable love for the Winter season. To the new ones, well now you do. Or if you’re more curious, go here.

Sometimes, as I stroll through the field in the morning, the slight chill in the air reminds me that winter is just around the corner. Like someone poking me to remember and prepare for its magnificent arrival. I have always eagerly waited for winters and sometimes I do feel that maybe, it waits for me too. So in the meantime, it gives me small hints in the form of these occasional chills, like the smell of a delicious soup taking its good time to brew, but reminding me that it’ll soon be on my table.

I can’t say what affect does the weather have on you. Some people might take it like an ordinary affair. “Oh the Earth just revolves, so that’s not really a big deal!”

But I think, that the seasons are a wonderfully apt example of how changes can also be beautiful and how each one of them carries with itself a blessing, though initially hidden as an adversity.

Happy Autumn to each one of you.
And as for your little blogger, she can’t wait for December.

Winter Is Coming

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The volatile nature of the weather is ambiguously related to that of humans. Call it the comforting hum of a drizzle or the electric yellow of a bright sunny day. Weather, along with plenty of other stimulators , is a great catalyst to the sensitive human emotions. I’m taking my own example here, rainfall automatically forces me to ponder. Think. Think so much that I start to get worried. And then I get into a bad mood. Silly, maybe?

I’ve asked plenty of people about it. Each one of them had an entirely different interpretation regarding the weather. Some said spring made them lazy (I have no idea how). If I become selfish and talk about myself here (which I will) winters make me happy. I know, it’s weird. But there is this cold, damp, smoothness about winters that captivates my emotions and lifts up the mood.

I anxiously wait for winters to come. For the dry earth to moisten by the soft drizzles and later transform into a bedspread of white pearly snow although I haven’t seen or felt snow (it doesn’t snow here) but my imagination has done a commendable job in making making me experience it.

The warmth of christmas always ready to comfort the cold dry steams of human breath, in this misapprehended weather. Everything has a refuge, in the sombre snug winters. A cup of hot chocolate, in a warm blanket, near a fire place, in the middle of the night. Doesn’t that sound magically tempting?

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Winters give a pause to the rush of the turbulent human routine. When we don’t have time to stop! Look around. Appreciate the small little things in life. This weather gives us a chance. A chance to live with the gifts we were bestowed with i.e Love. Joy. Elation. Winters makes us realize the lushness of the greenery and appreciate its value as well.

How we miss the pastures!
How we miss the trees!
It makes us love the peaceful nature.
Bestowed with miracles, indeed!

Winter give ways to new beginnings. New ambitions. New emotions. A new year. They mold us and prepare us for the hardships of life- at the same time reminding us that it’s all worth it!

Giving away the philosophical aura, winters have always lulled me into an overwhelming embrace, softly swaying me in a warm infinity. They have always been a friend to me, reviving me, enthralling me and inspiring me towards the thought that it doesn’t matter if you’re cold or white or copious, you’re always beautiful. There’s always someone who’s relying on every little inch of you. That, my friend, is what this season means to me.

“What good is the warmth of summer, without the cold of winter to give it sweetness.”
― John SteinbeckTravels with Charley: In Search of America

 

“I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says “Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again.”
― Lewis CarrollAlice’s Adventures in Wonderland & Through the Looking-Glass

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