"HUSH!"
"Damn you!"
Yeah, it had been great.
For the first time you felt that shiver; that much talked about, much debated upon, shiver.
You had often wondered.
Now you knew.
Its that split second moment that leaves behind a trail of sharp, short breaths and a lingering quiver.
The fingertips are the first to recover.
Nothing else follows; at least not for the next five minutes.
You wish those five minutes would stretch for an eternity.
But slowly, the mist begins to lift. Breaths are deeper now.
You want to roll over and drift off...
It is an ordinary morning.
The alarm goes off at its scheduled time. I rub my eyes but refuse to leave the snug blanket. It's bitterly cold. The weather department, not mincing words, has declared the temperature to be two degrees below normal, expected to continue for an entire week. Frosty winds have resolved to shatter my window.
Many feeble turns later, I finally gather the courage to step out of the refuge. Outside, the sun, having fiercely rejected all pleas of an appearance, has the nerve to wink mockingly from behind its veil of clouds.
The good lady next door steps out in her balcony with a small glass of water. She gives me a disapproving glance ("It's 9 in the morning and you are still prancing around in pajamas.The single, working girls these days, I tell you... Must have been partying last night. Still looks a wee bit drunk to me!")
She is barefoot, her head covered with a bright red dupatta that clashes violently with the rest of her pink outfit. She turns her face towards the east, bows her head in reverence to the non-existent sun, raises her hands high above the head and lets the water cascade.
A slight shiver runs down my back as I see the cold water go down the drain; but not before drenching the lady's feet. Involuntarily, she shivers too.
Her lips move in silent prayer ("Just ten more kilos, please dear god! I have a more expensive pair of pyjamas...just ten more kilos!")
She concludes her prayer, throws another smug glance in my direction and makes her way back into the house. As she opens the door to her living room, I catch a faint snippet from the morning news- "... six degrees, partly cloudy sky with no traces of sun..."
I swear to Satan, it's a conspiracy!
Its strange how often the phrase is used.
But the ease with which it is said, heard, repeated and accepted as a statement is fairly alarming.
The sheer limitation of the human faculty to comprehend complexities that are intrinsic to our existence stares shamelessly in the face each time the phrase is mentioned.
Knowing is a very gradual process. At an age when a sizable chunk of people can be found grappling with grades, targets, parents, managers, women and other terrifying issues, its a pretty tall claim to say 'Yes, I know.'
Existentially speaking, its actually quite 'absurd'!
