Why I Love The Winter

Okay, so no prizes for guessing that Winter is my favouritest, awesomest, supercoolest season of the year. See how I just used those 3 very mid-teen words that don’t really have a place in the dictionary? Yeah, I do that. Ok so HERE’S WHY I LOVE WINTER! :
  • Winter does not know that Mumbai exists. Ok no, you don’t understand. The whole year, my life, and I’m sure other people who’ve lived here for 20+ years and have STILL not acclimatized, their lives and relations, successes, failures, minor irritations and life changing decisions, are annoyingly made either entirely or in part with reference to the never-endingly-tirelessly-beating-down-on-us Sun and the resulting film of constant moisture on our skins. So no, Americans….and Western Europeans, it does NOT, in fact, matter whether or not we try to make ourselves presentable because….HONESTLY. Try looking the way you do with 12 bucketloads of humidity following you around everywhere and try keeping that French Knot intact whilst sitting in a barley closed- autorickshaw.
So when winter does poke it’s head around the door in  the teensiest, most tentative and bashful manner, I leap and grab it by the neck and usher it into the room (like the opportunity for building a new park for Leslie Knope of Parks and Recreation )while also singing of good tidings and being merry, so as to not scare it away next year.
  • I am presented with the opportunity to be inherently cool.I do not feel cold. In general. At all. (Just to be clear I’m talking only about the subcontinent of India, wherein I’m talking about all those states that are NOT close to the Himalayas, thankyouverymuch, I am not a Yeti and neither do I have CIPA). But yes, I can run around on the beaches of Goa in December in nothing but a bikini while my friends shiver in oversized, 2 inch thick sweaters. I also pride myself in the fact that I continue to take cold showers in the night, even in winter. If there are boys I’m interested in, I tell them this. I like to scare them with my machoness. I’m not sure how that works for me, on the attractive scale though :S  I’m guessing not to good.
  • Clothes that look good. Winter is the only time I can afford to pick clothes according to how they look as opposed to how flimsy and breathable the fabric is. And, let’s face it – Layering is sexy. I can’t layer, EVER. Except maybe in Winter. Long sleeves? Corduroy? WOOL? HA! Forget about it. They take a one…or two, or sometimes three year hiatus and come out only when I pack my suitcase to go abroad on holiday, so as to escape the Monstrous May Heat. Once and only ONCE has it ever been used in India. Winter of 2007, when the temperatures dropped to 17 degrees C. I do believe I went delirious with joy those months and could be found snuggled up under layers of comforters, creepily smiling at nothing in particular and sometimes even thinking of doing animal sacrifice or some kind of sacrifice to keep that wonderful winter going.
  • No irritability. I do not snap at inanimate objects for falling down and making me pick them up. I do not snap at my confoundingly thick-headed music students. I am not weary of crows. Ok, I still might be but….respectfully so. I do not curse traffic signals and hawkers and eunuchs and speedbumps and my college quite so harshly. The jhadoo-katka lady, who never fails to conveniently leave the fan off when she’s done sweeping the room which makes me wake up 5 minutes later, bathing in my own sweat. In winter, this does not happen. I sleep blissfully and wake up only to realize all this has come to pass and I am sweatless and unharmed. This is a great joy.
  • Hair and skin. This doesn’t need any elaboration. Winter is like a GodNatureEssentials conditioner and lotion for my body. Except…..In addition, I have to actually continue using my store-bought versions of conditioner and lotion but WOW! It’s a truly wonderful feeling with you run your hand through your hair and it feels like….like hair, rather than the broomstickhead of Harry’s Nimbus 2000.
  • Random visiting family that gets presents. My family, which, by the way, is gargantuan on both sides, always decides to come down to India for Christmas. Now, since the family is so large, more often than not we don’t know of lots of their existences so we have to be  cordial by virtue of obligation. But who cares?? At the end of it, I am paid a handsome bounty, to make up for their gaping absence in my life. *scoff*
  • Best movies Like. The best time for watching feel-good movies wid dem gurlz. And…by oneself, too. Maybe with dog. Maybe with imaginary dog named ‘Dawg’. Like Frozen, Polar Express, The Holiday and Titanic just because we’re stupid and want to unnecessarily cry.


  • Pretty things  MAKING A BLANKET FORT WITH A LAUNDRY STAND, LADDER AND FAIRY LIGHTS. Also, fairy lights everywhere in general. On wall to make shapes. In curtains. On self, just for a little while, to feel like an ornament (but then they get too hot and start to make multitudes of tiny burns). Invade other people’s homes and install more fairy lights. Watch the pale 7am sun through a crystal ball on the tree. Walk in the crisp evening air on streets lined by…..you said it not me, fairy lights.


  • CHRISTMAS!   Sweeeeeeeets. All things fattening and beautiful. Cute couples everywhere and you can’t decide whether they make you envious or just restore faith in romantic notions and suchlike. A choir festival in a packed church, festively decorated and ringing with traditional carols, plus a Walk for Peace is an added bonus. Christmas balls, funny Christmas-y costumes, delivering goodies to families you don’t otherwise meet the entire year round. Everyone is happyhappymerrymerry, even the bitter old man with the scary dogs whose nose looks like Owen Wilson’s.


And now, I have to end with a lame joke that came to me.
What does Brad say to Angelina during Christmas?
– ‘Tis the season to be Jolie!

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