Strange and
abstract designs appear in the light pink wall. The Papaya leaves are busy
dancing this morning. Filtered rays of the winter sun are creating a weird
pattern in the wooden shelf. I was quite bemused. How nature changes from one
season to the other. The dog has happily curled up in the gymnasium field. The
sand – keeping him warm and somewhat cosy. I fish for the mobile in my Bermuda pocket-
and realize I don’t have it with me. It is still sleeping beside sleep stained
pillow.
I walk back
to get it. Arms inside the pajama pocket, my father comes out of his room-
eager for a fuming cup of tea. “Its cold!” he greets happily. And I smile at
him and re-enter my sleeping zone. I get the smell of winter. It has crept into
my room. A bit more intensely than the rest of the house.
A damp,
cold air hangs inside my room. I open the window- and the warm sun immediately embraces
the dampness. I take my mobile and go back to my parents’ bedroom. The papaya
tree was still busy choreographing its’ winter jig. I try to capture it… each
time I feel disappointed. I stand- knowing well that I am running late for
office- a chill north wind ruffles my hair, past my ears- I realize it told me-
“She does not want to be photographed. It’s her time of romance with the astray
winter lover. How dare you encroach?”
I was quite
taken a back. I was sorry. But then I could not help being a voyeur again. How
beautiful is nature’s romance with its most erratic lover- the winter.
