Nose farts, everywhere!
The temperature has dipped in Gurgaon; the same is true for the rest of NCR. Or nip in the air, as the romantics prefer to call it. On the warmer side, the GoT fans can finally stop predicting that the winter is coming. It’s already here. We are about to witness the fading away of leaves. Quite a lot of the greens have already taken a break from photosynthesis. More will follow suit in the coming weeks. Two weeks ago, the sweet smell of Saptparni (Indian Devil Tree) was welcoming all those interested in presaging a twist in the season.
The devilish fragrance is still in the air, mildly though. But it’s overshadowed by the burdening smogginess of early morning and the breezy hustle of early evening. The sun can’t wait to leave office nowadays. His Hotness is gone even before the clock strikes 6. Let there be darkness, who’s complaining? The dusty nightmare of a city, paying the price for its past by piping a gorgeous dream for its future, continues to saddle on regardless. Besides, the Gurgaonvasis don’t bother to look up at the sky. They stopped doing that ages ago. There are no stars up there to peer at. The hazy envelope, fueled by the growing industrialization, ensures this behaviour. Some kids mistake the blinking lights of airplanes for stars. They ought to be told that artificial satellites exclusively move in their domicile. On second thought, wouldn’t that be evil?
With the change in weather, people, especially the migrants — gig economy tourists, as I like to call them — conventional careerists too — have either caught cold or will be catching cold soon. Beware of the exchange of selfless blessings—“bless you” — in air-conditioned offices. As if life wasn’t ironic enough already. However, it’s always beautiful to see such anti-evolutionary drama unfold in front of your eyes. Those from Bombay sneeze and so would the ones from Bangalore and Kolkata and Pune and Chennai and Hyderabad. There is no escape from this annual fest. I shouldn’t be sounding a bit on the nose by generalizing everybody’s immunity but it’s not my fault. Winter and Gurgaon are both pretty demanding.
Last week, the mosquitoes made their presence felt inside our apartment. If you leave the windows and the door open, they might even raise an army to kick you out, but not before sucking you dry. They are responsible for the most number of deaths in human history. They’ve earned their place in the food chain. What’s hard to believe is the fact that we are their food and if we manage to clap them to death, we are doing to them what junk food is supposed to do to us. They don’t care about any of this and keep trying their best to sink their satanic proboscises into us. That’s winter. It’s not exactly Gurgaon’s fault. Mosquitoes tend to feel homely with the very departure of monsoon. They swarm in followed by the lizards. Neither of them wish to go out on a limb. Survival matters. For us, two-legged beings in clothes, the external layering grows thicker with time. Interestingly, the bedroom’s AC is already off and the ceiling fan is back in fashion. Despite the night being chilly enough to make you pull up our quilts, the blades go round and round to dissuade the mosquitoes from drawing first blood. Whoever advertised All Out or Mortein (German for killer number one) meant business by their names were lying. That’s Gurgaon. It’s not exactly winter’s fault.
