Winter

Winter has to be just about the nicest season. Yes, I know how Brits, Canadians et al who live in the colder parts of the norther hemisphere go on about how wretched the snow is and how lovely it is to able to tan oneself all year round. But never mind you guys...I loved the snow even when it brought London (and therefore my life) to a grinding halt for almost 48 hours last year and I love it even more right now when there is not a chance in hell of it snowing in tropical Cal.

Right from when I was little I have these distinct memories of the city which I associate with winter. Frankly, the season encapsulates the very essence of Kolkata, with its infectious languor of a lost era. Of unhurried movements and an inherent disdain for vulgar things like time. Of steaming cups of tea throughout the day; of monkey tupees that I am convinced only a bengali has ever worn/will ever wear.

Of New Market and Park Street prepping up for Christmas. Of the emergence of Kashmiri shawl-wallas after the year-long hiatus. Of countless weddings across the city and the maddening traffic jams they cause.

This is a view from my office. Too bad my phone camera's so crappy, so you cant really see the ripples on the water.

One of my most favourite memories from childhood is settling down on this old, rickety staircase with a couple of oranges and a book and then spending the entire afternoon in the cozy warmth of the sun.