Girl About Town

Of course, you know what I’m going to write about if a) you read the papersand b) you’ve read this space before. I know what I’m going to talk aboutbecause I cannot stop talking about it, everywhere, it comes up frequently, inevery conversation, whether it’s real life or online. Normally, I shy awayfrom mundane subjects such as the weather, but when the weather is no longermundane and is instead standing on its head making faces at you, what can you dobut mention it? 

I’m talking, of course, about the recent winter in Mumbai.Moving here from Delhi, when I refer to winter here, I say it  scornfully,with quotation marks in my voice. "Winter" is the period lasting atmost about two weeks, at the end of December and early January when Mumbaicitizens pull out their monkey caps and huddle around bonfires, bemoaning the 22degree weather. Last year, when I had just moved to this city, my Mumbai friendshuddled into jackets, while I, fresh and smug from freezing Delhi danced aroundin tank tops and shorts. 

Tropical cities agreed with me, my skin is dry and here in the humidity itglows. But, yesterday morning, fresh from a shower, I was toweling off and Inoticed my skin was chapped! "This won’t do," I said to myself,"Is Mumbai turning into Delhi?" Certainly it was on Sunday night. Iwas out with some friends at a nightclub, and in regular nightclub clothes—asmallish top, jeans, and just in case the air conditioning got too high, a lightjacket. I regretted this on the way back home in the taxi, where my fingers feltthey were made out of ice, and I was sure that my nose was going to fall off.Was this really Bombay? 

My friends have been wearing sweaters. I don’t own any sweaters in this city.I feel terrible that I’m so badly equipped, me, who needed a separate cupboardfor winter clothes in Delhi. I miss my black trench coat and my red leatherjacket. I miss being spiffy in the winter. But, what’s odd is, I miss thetropical weather too. I miss wearing skirts and feel the salt of the sea airwash over me and yes, I even miss the light layer of sweat that hangs over you(well, I don’t miss the sweat all that much) at the nooks of your elbows andbehind your knees. I miss sinking into air conditioning and the joy of a coldshower. I, the winter addict, am turning into a heat seeker. 

It’s warmer today. There are patches of sunlight occupied by sleeping cat. Ihad the the fan on last night (set at the lowest speed). Even though I had aquilt to curl up under. I should be thankful for small mercies. In Delhi it isso cold that school’s been cancelled. And since the Delhi schools are reallyanal about attendance, you know it’s prettycold.  

There are advantages to having a mild winter in Mumbai though. You alwayssmell nice, for one thing, as does everyone else around you. My hair whichfrizzes in humidity looks great. It’s perfect if you’re a couple and youwant to do romantic things. In fact, the couple count along the promenades hasgone up considerably. Everyone seems to be in a better mood. People are slowingdown in this rushed city, slowing down and smelling the flowers, enjoying thebreeze, basking in sunlight and the sound of waves. 

And it makes me poetic, clearly. Long may it last.