Monday, December 3, 2012

Witter on Winter

Winter's back in season! Over the years, I've come to realise that winter brings out the chirpy side in me  (because, you know, that chirpiness isn't evident the rest of the year at all). I love writing about winters nearly as much as I love writing my annual birthday posts...even more so because winter indicates that the birthday is only a season away!

There's just some magic in the air when you wake up and feel the icy floor with your toes. The magic spreads to the car, as you wipe off the thin frosty icing from its windows. The magic envelops a seemingly boring street, making it look mystical in a dull haze. The magic follows you to work, as the dysfunctional central air conditioning keeps resetting itself to below 20 degrees, ensuring that the bright sweater you wore is completely justified indoors as well. The magic stays with you at lunch, when a sudden gust of cold wind suddenly gives you a hug. The magic follows you home, cooling you down just before you divulge your knowledge of  bilingual profanity at the megalomanic drivers on the road. The magic  drags your eyes upward, to stare at the inky blue sky and the little shimmery stars sprinkled around the luminous moon. The magic finally tucks you into the warm huddle of blankets, reassuring you that it will be around the next day as well. 

Overkill with the magic bit, eh? I guess some things are better expressed through poetry. 

Okaaay, so winter can't be all about happiness and delirium now, can it? There is the bane of the chill - my sporadic exercise regimes. It takes a soul of iron to wake up every morning and try to do at least some form of physical activity (apparently, climbing two flights of stairs is not counted as physical activity anymore. My mother refuses to reason with me on that subject now.) 

And then there is my new nemesis. A cat that starts its own version of Salman Khan item songs in a particularly harsh meow baritone at 5 every morning. To make matters worse, the cat sends out its little coterie of kittens to play peek-a-boo under my me little heart attacks before taking it out. 

And when I've decided to settle down for the night, I see his (why am I so sure the cat's male? Because I don't really know if female cats have a I figured I'll stick to the obvious. Also, boys are snot.  I cannot emphasise that enough.) silhouette at the window, sitting majestically like a sphinx and waiting for the clock to turn five so he can begin his grammy eliciting recital. 

But lets stick to the happy bits of winter, shall we? The steaming mug of cocoa with whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles...the anticipation of a delicious Christmas and the promise of an exciting new year (That is, of course, if the Mayans are proven wrong and we don't end up perishing before we can say apocalypse.)

So yes, Winter's here and it's here to stay (for several months, by the looks of the dysfunctional A/C at work). I am one Santa's pants away from bursting into a carol about how awesome this season is, so this would probably be a good time to stop typing. 


Aishwarya Nair said...

You do Not talk about winters without mentioning My Budday. My. Budday.
I see you wasted precious web space talking about impending Mayan-predicted apocalypse! N you wouldn't say a word about My Budday!! Wow!!

If the pen truly is mightier than the sword, then you just harakiree'ed Me my friend! Sob. Sob. Drama Queen Sob.

Vaishnavi said...

*Gasp* The Blasphemy!

Abbe dhakkan (and I love saying that to you instead of the other way round, for a change :P )'re going to be getting an entire blog post to yourself after next week!

Which will include a teeny-tiny mention of that budday you keep harping about. :P

...and here I thought my frequent nostalgic photo-spamming budday attack on facebook would've been rewarded with a Sholay type song.

*main sheher chodh ke jaa rahi hoooon*

Sob. Sob. Student of Drama Queen upstaging the queen herself Sob.