Uff! The alarm is at it again! The devil never lets me sleep. I send the accursed thing into a ‘snooze’, along with myself, slip my hands underneath my head again and cuddle up under my bundle of joy, the blanket.
Ah winters! Don’t they have their own unique charm? I always blurt out ‘monsoon’ whenever someone asks me for my favourite season, but am always tempted to change sides when winter comes. The bliss of oversleeping cuddled up under a warm and cozy blanket is just other-worldly. The mind says “come on, get up and study”, but somehow the body refuses to cooperate, enjoying the blissful warmth underneath the blanket. Even a toe peeping out is promptly put inside.
You look outside the window. It’s a clear cold morning. You see a curtain of fog hanging low, suspended over the fresh green grass. You somehow force yourself out of your bundle of joy and get ready, with cardigans and cute furry socks and hand-mittens. You can feel the howling wind slicing the air. You’re tempted to eat the breeze or the cottony snow, but only if it was not this cold. You catch up on a hot cuppa, in the meagre balmy sunlight and feel like doing nothing, just hanging around, like the fog itself.
Or catch up on that book you always wanted to read, or why not, write one yourself? Golden sunlight seems to melt the rosy chill at some places and all the friends are clamouring to get sun-baked in that coveted spot. Even a simple thing like washing the hands seems killing and reluctantly you do the cold water a favour by letting it touch, or rather bite, just the tip of your fingers, and then pull them away in sheer shock from its coldness.
Nights are even lovelier over the winters. There’s a nip in the air. The street lamps are shrouded in fog and appear faded and blurry, as if the winter chill is casting a spell, making even them all jaded and lazy. The chill rosy wind, as soft as silk, brushes the face, the only part exposed to this ‘rosy onslaught’, everything else being covered in woollens. I’ve got a peculiar habit of touching my nose on such wintry nights, because that’s the coldest spot on my body then, and it just feels so magical to transfer heat from your fingers, all tucked inside your pockets, to the poor nose, braving the winds all alone, sitting pretty on your face.
Splash in the red and green of Christmas, the Christmas trees draped in snow, the tinkling bells, glittery trinkets, tinsel, festoons, the soft and cozy stockings, mufflers, mittens, the snowmen, the Santa hat and the Santa Claus himself, the air thick with bonhomie, reverberating with Christmas carols, doughnuts, lovely plum cakes, pastries, candies making the air even heavier with their heavenly aroma… Umm! Makes winter so much yummier, merrier.
And how can I forget the wonderful Christmas stories? Stories made of light fluff, teaching the virtues of kindness, giving and gifting in this festive season. And if Christmas is here, can New Year be far behind? New Year is all about ‘partying all night’ with awesome friends and ringing in another new year full of hopes, warmth and happiness. People oozing with exuberance, singing along, humming along, breaking into a jig here, and a ‘couple dance’ there around a soothing campfire... Just the perfect way to spend the night. I become one with the ensemble, soaking in the heavy air of the cold winter, as the musical tunes rise up along with the smoke of the campfire…
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