A handful of thoughts

Unlike the western world who have four seasons (not to be mistaken with the hotel), we Indians along with some of our neighbors, have six seasons a year. And the one that comes before winter, right after autumn is Hemanta kal; and its here. The festivals over, crops harvested, days shortened; this season makes me melancholy. This is the time of the year when the satin blue skies disappear, making way for a dreary, dull sky. A thin layer of mist pervades the horizon right after the sun goes down and the sun goes down pretty early too.

Unlike the sunny cheerfulness of winter, that comes a month later, this transitory season is also, the most uneventful of all, going by the Hindu calendar. One reason for this of course is the fact that the festivities of the earlier month leaves pockets and exchequers quite empty. But even apart from that, there is as if during this season nothing to celebrate; nothing to be happy about. Everything follows its daily course, every morning is like the morning before and after it. This season, it seems to me, is one of those great balancing scales. It reminds us, that you cannot have the pudding and eat it too. Life’s not all about festivals and picnics. Shades of grey do intercept; and that too quite often.