Yes, I am in the North of India. Punjab a land of fertile soils, but why oh why this extreme heat and cold? Come Summers I say to myself "I can manage the weather in Winter", and come winter, I say " This cold is unbearable ". Do we really think that the weather Gods give a rat's ass about our condition. With the dawn of this summer, I have had a great share of the summers wrath upon me.
I woke up at the crack of noon, finding myself suffocating in the mere dryness of the single seater room's air. The mesh door which had allowed in cool winds the previous night was overcome by the strong dry wind which seemed to be telling me" It's about time you get your lazy ass out of bed". How did it find itself with such an overwhelming power, I wondered to myself. I was being 'roasted'.
Have you ever seen the the roasting of peanuts on a dry flame over a sand bath with the right addition of salt.' Kadlai Kai"(salted peanuts) as I have always known it was a great appetizer. The Roast of Hugh Hefner which I happened to watch later that night too was nothing compared to what I experienced that evening. The dry air hitting against my face, the small beads of sweat that purposefully moved as in afraid that the wind would carry it away and destroy it. The trace of salt left after the water droplet was carried away on a fiery wind. The wind rushing at me from all directions with traces of sand ensuring a perfect roasting condition to the being that is me. The container was well the concrete road of my institute. The chardness that I later felt along the creases of my face was a proof to the mighty power of the wind. With the movement of my limbs against this wind, I felt a faint sense of fear. Why faint you might ask? Well to justify myself the fear of the dryness and heat was greater. The wind in fact gave me the power to continue along my path. Fear was still present like the omnipresence of a divine being and I felt fear of the soul of the wind being mixed homogeneously with the dry heat. Where were all the water droplets being carried away too. It is said that " Drops of water make an ocean" and yet the wind moved on and on and on. And never did a drop fall.
"Oh Mighty Wind let naught your egoism make you forget the true purpose of your power. Carry away the water but do shower it on us mediocre beings at times like these. I beg of you. "
I woke up at the crack of noon, finding myself suffocating in the mere dryness of the single seater room's air. The mesh door which had allowed in cool winds the previous night was overcome by the strong dry wind which seemed to be telling me" It's about time you get your lazy ass out of bed". How did it find itself with such an overwhelming power, I wondered to myself. I was being 'roasted'.
Have you ever seen the the roasting of peanuts on a dry flame over a sand bath with the right addition of salt.' Kadlai Kai"(salted peanuts) as I have always known it was a great appetizer. The Roast of Hugh Hefner which I happened to watch later that night too was nothing compared to what I experienced that evening. The dry air hitting against my face, the small beads of sweat that purposefully moved as in afraid that the wind would carry it away and destroy it. The trace of salt left after the water droplet was carried away on a fiery wind. The wind rushing at me from all directions with traces of sand ensuring a perfect roasting condition to the being that is me. The container was well the concrete road of my institute. The chardness that I later felt along the creases of my face was a proof to the mighty power of the wind. With the movement of my limbs against this wind, I felt a faint sense of fear. Why faint you might ask? Well to justify myself the fear of the dryness and heat was greater. The wind in fact gave me the power to continue along my path. Fear was still present like the omnipresence of a divine being and I felt fear of the soul of the wind being mixed homogeneously with the dry heat. Where were all the water droplets being carried away too. It is said that " Drops of water make an ocean" and yet the wind moved on and on and on. And never did a drop fall.
"Oh Mighty Wind let naught your egoism make you forget the true purpose of your power. Carry away the water but do shower it on us mediocre beings at times like these. I beg of you. "
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