Wednesday, October 12, 2011


It smells like winter. It smells like dusty sunshine. Like naked trees and wandering leaves. It smells like hot smoky bhutta, fresh off the coals. Like morning mist and warm afternoons. Like sleeping in the sunny afternoons, and waking up for tea and samosas. Like reading in the sunshine. Like being taken aback by the beauty of the golden sunlight on the warm green leaves. Like lazing around, secure in the knowledge that tomorrow will be the same as today.

How I miss the Delhi winter. And yes, the Jamshedpur one, too.
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