Winter

Winter is like that.

Cold on the outside. So much, that it makes you feel warm inside. With the right company. Or, the right book. Or, with the right view.

It makes you look inside.

Like the way mild rain showers do. Not the torrential downpours. No, they scare you.

Mild rain showers make you wrap yourself up in an imaginary cocoon. And sing songs to yourself. As you walk back to the comfort of your home. Or, the place you can call home.

 

And as you shiver, you become one with the surroundings.

Winters can do that.

Like mild rains.

Not summers though.

 

The winter haze hides all noise. Sometimes, you rub your ears just to hear something. The sound of silence, maybe.

You only see what you need to see.

Or, what you expect to see.

When you stand by the windows in winter, you see beauty. Nature’s silence.

winter

Everything is an illusion. Or not. Like the heightened taste of pakodas. Or, the warm glow of companionship.

In winters, two often become one. As they seek each other.

And as two become one, the world seems like a less crowded place. Not divided by the difference between tea and coffee, white and black, paratha and dosa, capitalists and socialists. Like a nice coffee shop with a community table, which has space for just one more person. And another.

Like that community fire that makes you sit around and share stories. With space for just one more person. One more story.

 

Aren’t wintery places more sought after holiday destinations? Like Switzerland? Kashmir? As compared to the desert of Thar? Or Chennai?

 

Winters bring out the best in everything. Except, the colours of nature. Nature becomes silent. And broody. But broody is beautiful, no? Don’t you see a lot more of model photoshoot pictures where the subject is intense and broody. Not cheerful. Isn’t that the appeal of Ajay Devgan? Apparently?

 

 

I wonder why he wrote it that way. The Winter Is Coming. Ominous. Winter is nice. Winter is togetherness. Winter is the countless night spend together huddled in the same rajai. Winter is multiple rounds of chai-coffee together. Winter is those lazy five minutes of sleep. Winter is the new year picnic with family and friends. Winter is the steam coming off a hot roti. Winter is us.

 

 

 

 

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About Amit
Conventional, boring, believer, poet, Shayar (to be precise), lover of music, musical instruments, and all that can be called music (theoretically or metaphorically), jack of all master of none, more of a reader less of a writer, arbit philosopher, foolish debater.. and many more such things.. like so many people!

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