Thursday, 13 December 2012

Of Frosted Noses and Ears

Its cold as anything in Kashmir. We know that well by now. Cold is a celebration of sorts. Of whatever warmth you may get in days of steely sunlight stolen at odd hours of the day. Of sitting wrapped up in blankets and staring at bulbs which flicker with an unsure voltage. And listening to tales. Or, even to the wind as it passes gently under the window sills making noises like old men trying to whistle. Coarse.

People, who walked with their collars high and heads bent, rubbing their frosted noses swore this evening that it will snow any minute. Children going to and from tuition centres in tweed pherans and mufflers walk around with hands stuffed in their pockets. Blowing them occasionally in midst of their never ending mindless chatter. The long ladies over coats are back (as they have been every winter since Kal Ho Naa Ho), but lets  jointly thank the Almighty that the awful ear-muffs (of last year's fame) have been spared.

While the people cannot afford to spend crores of  rupees on fuel like the Abdullahs and Muftis do, we can surely pass the noon chai around with some warm girda. And feel the warmth of sitting and chatting of happier times. That's an ageless pursuit in all happy families.

Outside, it is raining.  And though the kangris have been burning bright in anticipation of snow, there is none so far. But, Hope, my dear, lies in the wait for snow.


  1. "happy families" are there any. ..??
    btw love ur writing . .. :)

    1. Happy families? Hard, hard to find. But I imagine sitting and talking is something happy families do. You know as Tolstoy said, "All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way."

      Thank you...


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