I haven't the foggiest!

The winter chill, basking in the sun, nut crackers, woolly bright clothes, dry skin, watery nose, lots of dry fruits, hot chocolate and coffee, energy bars and bowls full of soup... that's winter for me.

"You look happy today!"...remarked someone with a quizzical look.
'ha ha ha'...I laughed out loud..."I am. Its probably because since morning everything I have laid my eyes on has been red!"

Red, makes me feel all christamassy. A tinge of white, makes me think of snow (which I have never witnessed at Christmas or otherwise; but I've seen plenty of movies to know what it must look like !)

Both these colors mark Christmas. Although, individually their natures are so contrary. Aesthetically they are completely different.

Red is considered a stimulant. It can have a physical effect of increasing the respiration rate and raising blood pressure. I feel exhilarated and uplifted when I wear it. And when I see so much of it at work (everybody wears it in honour of Christmas...), it naturally emboldens and energizes me.

Off late I have seen a lot of white as well. Driving through the fog late last night, tailing the truck lights blinking right in front of us, my husband and I were freezing our pretty asses off in the car with 'Gregorian' serenading in the background. Mr. Me finds this German band downright horrific. Their Church like melodic chants depress him. I, on the other hand enjoy the incantation which is definitely celestial! The dismal and dreary winter night darkened Mr.Me's mood even further. He was cheerless and grouchy because of the drive down the foggy frosty road. The grayish white night was brightened only by the fading glow of the taillights of the vehicles in front.

Our car came to a halt at the Kalindi check post. I peered out of the window and spotted a couple of cops with flashlights, knocking at the panes of the cars in front of us. "Jesus Christ! Its going to take forever. They are checking all the god damn cars ahead of us", I muttered.

Mr. Me selected another track, one of my favourites. He too is growing rather fond of 'Lifehouse', especially the album 'No Name face' .

He started to hum along ...
"Desperate for changing
Starving for truth
Closer where i Started
Chasing after you
i'm falling even more in love with you
letting go of all i've held onto
i'm standing here until you make me move
i'm hanging by a moment here with you"

He is adorable when he gets all mushy. I couldn't sulk any more. I started to sing along. We were on a high, still stuck behind a monstrous truck with cauliflowers stacked so neatly on top of it.

The mist settling on our car must have made it glisten under the flashlight directed at it. I couldn't see it of course, but i definitely had a vision of the glossy exterior. Two hazy figures of thickly clad beings, swish swashing their heads from the left to the right, blaring music emanating from within. One of the cops tapped at the window pane and Mr. Me pulled the window down with a smug look on his face. He has these big almond shaped eyes, on this elf like clean shaven face, that look even bigger still when he is joyous. The cop looked at us both with suspicion (as if his glare was going to petrify us and make us divulge the secrets of national importance and that would be his break to glory!).

A brief and vague exchange of words between Mr.Me and the cop brought the matter to a close. The traffic ahead was clearing too. We picked up pace and were finally crawling on the glassy tar road. The warmth of his hand must have melt the icy frost on the car...the droplets sliding down the smooth surface... splashing onto the stone cold road...

The time stopped...we held onto each others hand for a long time...lifehouse still playing in the background... we carried on... shrouded in the cloudy fog... "I am hanging by a moment here with you"...

Coversations...

Conversations, over coffee or sometimes over a smoke. In biting cold we stand, shifting on our feet way too many times to keep our legs from going numb. Searching and searing looks, wondering what lies beneath (do you really mean what you say?). Laughter; sometimes forced, sometimes genuine. I see, I hear, I feel....I reflect.


Sometimes I look back and wonder... what was that all about? Especially, when I revisit the memory of an interaction and still am not able to recollect the 'snippets' of conversation I've had with people. Then the realization dawns on me that it was perhaps me doing most of the talking and mere monosyllables were chimed by the one I was in a so called 'conversation' with. Meaningless, futile and inconsequential is what the whole exercise seems like at the end of the day. Do I need to spruce up my listening skills? or maybe such people are too trite to be taken notice of. But then, there are also conversations which seem sumptuos, wholesome, mentally stimulating...

Where are they?...the rational and the judicious beings.Have they been evacuated for the fear of their capitulating under monstrous pressure exerted by the senile and the witless? Or is there an array of such beings but I haven't had the fortune of getting acquainted with too many of those? This deprivation can be detrimental for the intellect and wit of those who are blessed with any...

I've had some scintillating snippets of conversations with people...although, I have to admit in all honesty that such occassions and the people who I shared these moments with can be counted on my fingertips.

I still anticipate and carry on having conversations over coffee...



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