Here comes Winter, again.
Rain and mist bring winter chill to Delhi (IBN Live, 13th Nov. 2009)
I read the internet version of this news piece and was taken back to the sweet reminiscences of my equations with winter. Penning something on winter is not new for me, and in my other blog I did express my feelings and expectations from winter, when I was in my second year of Bachelors. ( For more reference, click http://reflectionsalec.blogspot.com/2007/10/who-says-spring-is-best-i-go-for-winter.html )
Well, Winter has arrived again. And this time it has rains to accompany itself. Rains make me feel melancholic. When you have had enough of drenching around in the showers, you have to come back, change your clothes and sit in the room watching the continuing rains pelting hard on
the roofs and parapets of your life. It feels as if you have been made to sit in a small room, feeling claustrophobic and all, and no one cares while the action continues in your life, nonchalantly.
But rain brings with itself a strange clarity in the environment. After it stops pouring, you see everything sharper and clearer. Like after the tears flow, one can see the true image of the world. The winds become even more chilly, the intoxication of the winter night escalates further. The longing for someone dear, snug and close becomes excruciatingly evident; and the sweet nothing gossips with friends become more comfort giving. The chillness of winter defines the degree of comfort one can get out of slight warmth. In temperature, in emotions, in relationships. Every thing has an inherent duality, I guess.
But even this clarity doesn't perpetuate. As the evening arrives, mist starts to surround the horizon, and the soul. One can't see neither one's own hands nor one's own thoughts. The paradigm changes only to get even blurrier. The soul craves for something, gets sad on not getting it, becomes happy to see the brighter side of it, only to find the limit of this forced happiness and ultimately finds solace in the sadness.
Two winters have passed since I last wrote on winters. It indeed is a strange season for me.
Ignites some kind of thinking lamp of my
soul, only at the expense of taking away my peace. And I normally don't mind my peace taken away except in the winter season. Back in my playdays, the ball struck us hard when it was winter.
And guess what, it still hurts hard when its winter.
Nov. 17, 2009 (Incidentally, Pranav's Birthday)