Scenes from winter

Another freezing day set in.

While some drizzle the previous day had fueled thoughts about the fog clearing out and biting cold taking a beating, such thoughts couldn’t be more far from what lay ahead.

People, who would rub their hands only when it was accompanied by chuckles of pure glee, looked the exact opposite – glumly staring ahead,shivering despite the expensive woollens that adorned their shoulders, rubbing ther hands to restore some warmth to them.

Easier said than done!

Early office morning goers, their teeth chattering, send up silent prayers for the sun to the skies yonder. Sorely missing the weekends, when they could afford to slink deeper into the cosy warmth of their thick blankets, they curse the week for having begun. Some solace appeared in form of cups with piping hot tea that they stopped for at a roadside shack. What would have otherwise been a three-minute affair with the styrofoam cup has instead been relegated to an under-a-minute condensed form – thanks to the numbing cold which made even a steaming cup into its lukewarm version.

The young executive looks out smugly from the brand new pair of wheels he’s recently bought, admiring the anti-dazzle lights he’d had the good sense to get installed. Cutting through the fog seemed so much easy. The sound system played his favorite track from an ‘80s flick, and he increased both the volume as well as the automobile’s heating with one fluid stroke.

The two labourers shuffle towards their daily-wage earning area – the Metro construction, wrapping their hole-ridden shawls tightly around themselves. Thank God the sheer physicality of their work ensured that they wouldn’t remain cold much longer.

The newspaper vendor, eyes streaming with the cold, flings the correct newspapers into their intended readers’ homes. Cycling bored him, and to keep himself company he whistles loudly. As he turned a corner, he muttered an oath when an aged poodle barked shrilly upon seeng him.

The salesman, after staring long and hard at his weekly target, walks slowly to his motorcycle. Despite repeated kicks, it refused to start. Vigorous shaking of the bike ensued, and the engine then throbbed to life. Remembering to wear the heavy helmet, he sped off in a trail of dust, having forgotten his neatly foil-wrapped lunch – yet again.

The housewife pulls her warm dressing gown closer to herself, and walks out onto the balcony – to wave fondly to her husband who would drive twenty kilometers away to his workplace.

The 40-something CEO steps inside his spacious beauty on wheels. No words of gratitude escape his lips, as his smiling chauffeur closes the Merc’s door upon him. Oblivious to the cold around him, he settles into the leather seat, burying his nose into the day’s market figures. Not once does he look up from his treasure.

The retired gentleman decides to skip his morning walk, and instead talks animatedly to his grand-daughter, who has decided that winters were the best time for her to begin walking, and is on all fours on the tiled floor.

And far from it all - a lone dog looks longingly inside a warm coffee shop, hoping against hope that some kind soul would perhaps throw him the last piece of his morning sandwich...