Based on our geographical location, we claim ourselves to be residents of a ‘temperate climate’ region. Although ‘global warming’ is trendier now, we are actually living in a tropical country. So, in the middle of October, when the people opened their windows to a very sweet and secluded scent of winter, we welcomed her with much admiration. And what else can I say about the obligatory-sweater-wearing-winter of December-January that we all don’t feel already! Swimming in the heat of May-July, we think of winter and borrow the words of poet Bhaskar Chakraborty, “When will winter come, Suparna?” How much change touches our lives in this brick and mortar metropolitan? In search of an answer to that, I am writing ‘A Winter’s Tale’.
A Blanket of Mist
Winter follows a British manner and knocks on our doors to enter. First, she sends a letter of fog, then the smell of wet grass and dew. What should I call this scent? The scent of freshness? Or is the Urban Dictionary calling it by a new name now? That I don’t know. But the smell is familiar. It reminds me of a school field I left a long time ago, where I used to sing the ‘National Anthem’, in rows with my entire class.
After a while, the air is covered in a sheet of shy, gray frost. The cover of this sheet is flawless at least in the morning. Take a deep breath in it if you find a gap on your way to work, you will get to experience the crisp and soft smell of mist in the air. It feels like reacquainting with a familiar friend. Nevertheless, it is true that as the day progresses, no one pays much attention to the chilly weather due to the pursuit of life and livelihood, nor can they afford to. The multi-storied buildings where we live, study, and work, are far away from the smell of wet grass in the morning.
However, there is no way to deny the advertising industry this season. Advertisements for petroleum jelly, body lotion, and moisturizer cream appear on TV-radio or on social media. Winter also takes place in the alleys of Facebook. Some take refuge in Sukumar and write limericks, while others borrow from George R. R. Martin wrote, “Winter is Coming.” In our digital world, we create our own winter’s tale through these mediums.
The Usual Simplicities and Luxuries
As much as I appreciate winter, I cannot deny her discriminatory nature. A reality of our Winter’s Tale is that while the fashion statement of a denim jacket or cashmere shawl grabs us, many people in this city become lost in search of ‘Anything-to-survive’ to ward off the cold. Like Sunil Gangopadhyay, I too, ask the question, ‘Is it an ordinary wish or a luxury?’ I never get an answer, so a compromise of the two seems to be the best way.
So, the next time you are taking out your favorite red cardigan wrapped in the scent of naphthalene for yourself, please consider taking out the old sweaters and blankets. Put those things in the hands of those who are less fortunate people. I don’t know whether that will end the discrimination of nature and economy, but at least in our version of winter’s tales, the red cardigan will have a sweet smell of joy to complement the scent of naphthalene.
A Way to Lose Yourself
I affectionately call winter ‘A Feel-Good Time’. There is no unspeakable barrage of sweat, no abominable knee-deep sewage water, no scorching sun. Rather, it is the time to appear happy, wrapped in a very chic muffler. So people take a couple of days off, maybe even a week, to take their family or friends on a trip. They slip into their hats and jackets and run around – maybe stop and grab a cup of tea at an unfamiliar tea shop. The price of that tea maybe 5 takas, but the feeling of pure love mixed in it is absolutely free!
Say you don’t have the time to go on trips or sip tea by some unknown road, that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy winter. Not by a long shot! You can lose yourself in this city of brick, woof, and stones. Isn’t the moment of walking at night on a street lit by a lamppost surrounded in fog kind of losing yourself in a way? Leave the daily busyness for a while from your brain. Take a look around you, you’ll find even the person next to you as mysterious as a character from Greek mythology. Such intoxication lies in the winter air. In our winter’s tale, even the common everyday man finds the key to losing himself.
Smoke billows from the stove
Winter is the big fancy season. The poetry of the culinary arts is intricately involved in it. And the presence of this poetry is ever-present from the kitchen of the house to the cake shop at the corner of the street; from the roof of the multi-storied buildings to the menu of the elite restaurants. In some places, the air is heavy with the smell of Pithapuli, in some other places, friends organize ‘barbecue nights’ which has become very trendy in the life of the citizens.
Even the daily food list changes a lot. Instead of regular potato-eggplant curry, cauliflower-cabbage-bean-tomato takes the lead on the table. Vegetable sellers get busy selling a lot more of these fresh vegetables. They decorate the urban alleys like some uncommon flowers. You might end up buying a cauliflower in a hurry on your way back from the office! Then with an embarrassed face, ask your loved ones to cook a little cauliflower-fish curry with it.
A Trance in Disguise
I just called winter discriminatory and luxurious. But winter is probably best described as a trance in disguise, this trance grips the past we have all left behind. Many of us go back to the winter mornings wrapped in the colorful hats of our childhoods. Those winters of carefree dependency meant the winter break after the annual exams. Instead of mobile phones and laptops, Shivram’s laughter story or Ray’s “The Royal Ring” were our first choices. In this season of reminiscing old memories, some people also remember the incomplete stories of their lives.
Unbeknownst to us, we end up sitting on the balcony and wondering ‘what could have happened, what did not happen’. You don’t even have to think too hard to even get to that level. In the evening when the fog starts to form under the sodium lamp, your mind goes away in an instant to a winter evening many years ago. For some the night in their memories is a happy one, for others, the night is one of regret and missed opportunities.
However, in an urban man’s busy life, the opportunity to live in memory does not bode very well. So, we end up choosing the present over the past in the end. The city goes in a frenzy of weddings and newlyweds are seen everywhere. The air outside the community center with the smell of Kachchi is the new cause for celebration! The smell of ‘freshly brewed’ coffee reigns in the coffee shops. It is like a ‘happy city’ made of color-light-laughter weave, truly belonging to some fantastical “winter’s tale”!
There is no whiteness of snow in our winter, no wailing of the vast desert. Yet here, winter announces its presence in glorious beauty. In the morning breeze, in our midday lunch box, in the afternoon coffee cup, or in the evening cake festivals, winter matches itself here. You can share your nostalgia and love for winter with us in the comment box.
