On a bike, on airport road at 7.30am today. It was cold. Seriously cold. I looked like Rorshac(from Watchmen) without the moving ink stains of course. I had the dupatta wrapped around my face, and my jacket's hood pulled over.My hands tucked inside the sleeve of the warm jacket. Everyone around too was in jackets, sweaters, mufflers, monkey caps, what nots.
I even considered sticking to the big Volvo's engine side. It was crackling warm for the few seconds that I was stuck next to it.
While continuing to brave the cold and plodding on, a bike zoomed past. A guy in formals. No warm gear. I was awed. How did he do that?
And then I see his J&K number plates. No wonder. Given that he is from Kashmir, it's no wonder that Bengaluru doesn't warrant winter wear from him.
We are weighed down by pre-formed notions always aren't we?
Well, at that second, I wished I was as cool as him. But no, shiver me timbers.(I used that, to talk about the fact that I was shivering. And maybe, I'll have to get some timber and burn it(oh, a fireplace too) to keep warm).
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