Wintry memories

It's always a delight to spend the winter at my family home in Chinsurah. Mainly because the house is over 170 years old. So, the walls are damp and a cold draft is always running havoc around the establishment. Normally, it wouldn't delight anyone. But for me, anything that makes me forget that I reside in a tropical, oppressively hot country is welcome. And so, I spend my winter in denial...that it'll last forever.

     I am cherishing the warmth seeping into my feet, that are snugly tucked under the comforter. Simple warm vegetable soups have reached the pinnacle of deliciousness and you'll not find me complaining about my numb fingers (even as I write this) at all. 🙃

But my body still loves playing tricks on me. I still sweat while my fingers go numb. But it's all okay. Because winter means happiness. And happiness is looking at pretty colourful flowers. 

                                                    

What's your name?

There is happiness in holding a pen comfortably and knowing it won't slip because of your slick palms.

                             

I went to the mall before Christmas. I approve of the decor.

I walked 4 kms after a subpar meal at a fancy restaurant to wash the expensive taste from my mouth with scandalously cheap cubes of pepper chicken. I regret nothing.

                                             

I wasn't trying to coordinate...but I think I did. 😌

More memories will be made in the wintry mist before the sun burns through everything.