Monday, November 10, 2008

Some kinda blue

I looked outside my window this morning only to see that the smog's come early to Delhi this time, becoming thicker as the day wears on, and choking the pale sunlight, till nothing remains but the dusty olive outlines of past-monsoon trees. The world looks like a laminated photograph, made timelessly grainy by its faithfulness to the forgotten wall to which it clings.

Driving to and from work on such a smoggy day, I feel much like an impatient puppy trying to get out of a grey sheet thrown on it by a bunch of frisky kids, one who's heart is just not in the game, and who emerges from its unwelcome, raspy cocoon only to listlessly whimper back inside and snooze after discovering that its tormentors have forgotten all about it anyway and moved on to play "ice-pice"at the neighbour's. Yeah that's what all us kids called it way back then (and probably do) and yes, that's exactly what a smog filled day in Delhi feels like when you're just ever so slightly sad, and can't pinpoint the exact time of, or reason for, being hit by the weepy wave.

I feel treacle-tired, like you would get if you were to wade through a stream of treacle... your limbs feel syrupy and all you want to do is either let the sweetness lull you under or over to the other side: the one that's waiting for your warmth starved soul like a hot shower and a plate of eggs, sunny side-up.

I do believe the sun's on the other side of this moony Monday and till it's back peeping through my window again, I guess I'll just have to rustle up a reverie to cheer myself up and out of my melancholic meanderings. Hmmmm..... Bahama-mamas on the beach anyone?

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