Winter 2014

Delhi in winters is distinct from Delhi in any other season. This is the first winter I am home after skipping the entire season last year. Fog and dust swirl around. Flights are canceled, plans are disrupted. The sun is watery, filtering through clouds, promising warmth but not quite delivering. Still we chase it, through the window, in the balcony, while eating our meals outside.




I sit in the balcony, watching the potted plants that are blooming: fuchsia, white, yellow. I had forgotten how beautiful they were and how calming it was to just look at them. Life at home comes with its own soundtrack. The swooshing of the broom as it meets the floor, the peals of doorbells, the instructions to the maid on what to do for today, water splashing the balcony floor, the whistle of the pressure cooker, the melody of the latest Bollywood song playing on the cellphone, the honking of a car, the screech of tires as someone lives for today. It is never quiet. The days and nights have their own soundtracks.

I can never quite capture the breakdown of the winter fragrance. I am definitely reminded of dust settling down. I wish for jasmine flowers, to hide below my pillow, to hang on the cupboard handle, to twirl around the rear view mirror.

The markets are full of people, swathed and bundled in many layers. I am reminded of a picture someone posted online, of a man riding pillion on a scooter, encased in a blanket. It is cold, bitterly cold. Central heating is an alien concept.

It is wedding season, it is festive. The malls are full of Santas, I prefer the mannequins to the live ones. The sales are in full swing, when are they not? Tired people sit in corners everywhere.

At home we huddle around the heater, laughing, The TV plays in the background, the voices are reassuring. Tempers spark and voices rise and fall. I try to be even-tempered, to ride the waves of emotions that try and knock me down. I go for walks, morning walks, evening walks. Walking is my time.

I have come to the realization that I am now one of those people that live multiple lives, in different cities and countries. Sometimes these worlds collide, sometimes sparks fly, sometimes everything fits like an easy jigsaw puzzle. No amount of imagination prepares me for this.