Tuesday, March 6, 2012

On Weather. And Love.

It is so hot already. Not the spring-kind hot, no sir!
The kind that makes you re-shcedule all your day plans to night in your quest to avoid the heat. The kind that makes the re-shceduling a fail because nights are equally hot. The kind when you can't have a blanket over you all night, lest you want to melt with sweat. The kind when you can't not have a blanket over you all night, lest the mosquitoes carry you away.
Either way, I am toast.

I loathe summers with all my heart and more. I don't tolerate them voluntarily anywhere else but in Goa probably. That too because of the divine relief of the waters there. Summers shouldn't exist. But if at all they must, they must must must follow Spring. Spring sets base. It's transitional. You mourn the demise of the winters, but your hair doesn't act up already. You get your legs waxed regularly for tiny lowers, only to team them with warmish tops. You don't sweat. I don't sweat.
But I do now!
This is rather awkward because apparently New Delhi doesn't know it's supposed to be spring right now. It was 11 degrees just the other day and bam! now it's over 30 !!
Whatever happened to the middle time? When both team-summer and team-winter find a common season to coexist without calling  one another names for their seasonal preferences.
Co-existence is key.

Like, love.
Or whatever the hell they call it these days. Your first time, or one of the first few times is all love-like. And trusting. Filled with butterflies in the stomach, not heat in the loins. When you blush and your cheeks colour; and sexual innuendos is a very rare cause of that. You write poems in love and wait for stolen glances across rooms. You are so happy. And even when you are not, you somehow think you deserve the pain and suffering you go through. It all seems worth it.
You're in love, remember?
And then that gets over for miscellaneous reasons.
And bam! You go from 11 degrees to over 30 so quickly that is spins your head. You become incapable of emotion. You become incapable of trusting. You become incapable of sustaining a relationship without fucking it up the fear of fucking it up.
Before you know it, you are your cynical best and an absolute joy to be around all the fucking time?
*rolls eyes*

too young to die, too old to believe in promises...







Whatever happened to spring, man?

9 comments:

  1. Reminds me of The Notebook.
    Summer love :')

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  2. seriously.. its become very hot very suddenly.. its not even holi yet! But very nicely written post 1min your talking about the weather and bam the next min your talking about love.. nice!

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  3. Nice comparisons here..interesting read

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  4. I love the last part.
    Well written (:

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  5. I hate summers. Also. Because I am fucking photosensitive (allergic to the sun, beat that!). So as much as I love taking off to Goa, as a matter of fact I was just discussing a trip with the guy while we were looking at our last Goa trip pictures, I have to walk around there properly covered up against the sun. Which of course, is just cruel. :/ Sigh. Bring on the rain, I say.

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  6. It was 11 degrees just the other day and bam! now it's over 30 !!
    LOL :D

    * never liked such surprises *
    and not to mention the health issues( visualize running noses and rash throats ) because of these BAM!!! changes in weather..

    Awesome analogy. LOVE & HEAT : its getting sweaty ...eh! :D

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  7. I've read this on some ones blog before. Very dissapointing to see that you have simply lifted it up from there.

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    Replies
    1. Or perhaps you just read it on my blog. The url is different now. Copying isn't my thing.

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