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March Memories

Its that time of the year again when the weather makes me wax eloquent of the memories it evokes in my mind. There are weathers which remind you of other cities at different times, and places. There are weathers which remind me of a state of mind and body.

March. No matter where you are in India (almost) March has this distinctive feel and flavour. By March I mean not only the month, but the weather which usually signifies March. Its the onset of summers, and we are made aware of the heat and oncoming humidity all at once. After the mild and comfortable February, March brings dread of the oncoming months - the severe summer that is about to set in. It is the month that makes you realise the sultry heat (and its heat with a capital H) in India, the beginning of a season. It is also the month which makes you happy in a subversive way.

It is the month that as a child have always been associated by me of exams. Final examinations for the year and the summer holidays just after that. That sweet promise of vacations after a bitter week of being stuck indoors preparing for year end in School (and College).
Evenings pertain a typical langorous air, stillness all around, faraway sounds, slightly humid evenings, a slight cool breeze blowing in after a hot dry day... and the realisation of all this happening makes March a signature month.

Mingled with this realisation is the distinct feel of the city I am in. After a year spent in any city, the weather repeats. And brings back memories. Right now, I remember the feeling of being here last year. A ghost of the emotions I felt. Of the new discoveries I had made, of how my mind and body felt with each touch and fluctuation of an external stimulus. Of the sea from the guest house, of coming to this office for the first time, the tangy feel of conversation with my new colleagues, delight of the discovery of Fruit Cream at Haji Ali Juice Centre, friends who are no longer in Mumbai but were here to give me company then. The feeling also, of talking on a mobile phone still on roaming. And that of looking for a house, and finding one. A host of memories almost like a physical feeling. Tangible, yet far away.

Mornings and evenings, dawn, dusk, the warmth of the sun, the smell (albeit pungent) of the polluted sea, the hopes and uncertainties - all not felt a year ago in the flurry of activities. The memories remain, stronger than the actual incidences. They pile upon years and years of memories, intermingle together.The feelings experienced this year will remain with me to remember next year along with those of last year. Just like all the past ones.

The fear and uncertainties of examinations mingle with that of coming to the 'big bad Mumbai' and the anticipation and certainties of upcoming holidays with that of the liberation of moving here,to a new city and job.

I can remember almost every feeling I ever felt on a particular day of March through my twenty six years by the touch of that damp cool air in the evening when I stand by my window looking out at a city whose lights start twinkling with the onset of night. All in a single second, all individual, distinct, yet all so similar.


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About Me


Regurgitations of my mind. Specific, Vague, Memorable, Forgettable, Thoughtless, In-depth.

More variegated than your dreams or colours off a crystal. More than I can pen down. What I can, you can read.


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