GLORIOUS AFRICAN WINTERS VERSUS AN INDIAN GRANDMUM!

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I have always loved winter - from a distance. Those snow-clad mountains with the sunshine reflecting off in tiny diamond surfaces, the thought of the wind rustling through bare branches (brrrrr!), the freezing water that gradually turns into cracking ice - such beautiful images, but cold as cold can be. I could easily lose myself in a blizzard - in my dreams. Or when I am sitting in a claustrophobic room, with exhausted fans pushing around hot air. Suffocating, sweaty and unbearable! If summer comes, can winter be far behind! Oh yes, especially in a state like Kerala where winter comes in movies, TV serials and in one's dreams.

Of course, for homegrown folks, the monsoons are the nearest they could get to freezing, and an excuse to wear those monkey caps and sweaters which were probably picked up for their honeymoon to Wayanad or Munnar, and then left to hibernate in a dark cupboard, wrapped in linen cloth away from, sunlight, moths and silver fish.

When I get to colder climes, two months in a year, I know that winter is nigh when my nose develops a mind of its own and begins to sniff. Out come the first woollen layers and the hot cups of green tea which turn into an extension of my body. When the rest of the family is in light T-shirts, I walk around huddled in 'light' jackets - wind breakers, as they are called. (I had always assumed that breaking wind had a different connotation altogether!)

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I naturally migrate to the kitchen where the stove, the oven, the microwave and the kettle are switched on at various hours of the diurnal cycle. I push away the two dogs who also love the kitchen for different reasons, and park myself in the warmest spot possible.

As the layers of clothing increase, the hot African sun goes behind the clouds, and I look up at the greyness above and pray that a special little sun beam shine on me.

"This little guiding light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine, let it shine all the time." If only!

I find myself a seat on the couch with the sun streaming in behind me. My silhouette is too tempting not to click!

 

                                                                                             The sun and me!

My daughter, herself a mother of two adorable brats, takes it upon herself to berate me.

"Mama, will you stop washing dishes, please?"

I try and reason with her, tell her that doing the dishes in scalding hot water is one of the cheapest ways of staying warm in the peak of winter. Yes, I am a fan of Staying Alive by the Bee Gees and yes, I would like to stay alive, and warm.

The other way of staying warm is by offering to cook, which helps one to spend warm moments in the warmest part to the house - the kitchen. However, in this family, everyone wants to rustle up delicious dishes at the drop of a hat. Or is it at the whisk of a spoon! Hence, the answer invariably is, "Don't worry, Mama! I am making spicy chicken curry!" Or "Remember your son in law (read 'son in love') has bought kheema especially for the two of you?"

So, then I potter along, unobtrusively trying to wash a few more dishes!

On the other side, tucked away almost inside the pantry cupboard, sits a small dog, also striving to stay under the radar because he is not allowed in the kitchen. Right behind him, stands a bigger dog the size of a midget cow, who also tries on the invisibility cloak, while trying to sidle into that cosy space where enticing aromas waft out three times a day! Sometimes more! Like I said, this family loves to cook!

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Going out is always a dilemma. Is it going to be sunny? If so, do I wear two layers or three? My better half, who follows the weather forecast almost as fervently as the news on television, breaking and otherwise, announces that the next three days are going to be warm, followed by a cold front. I decide to put on a light cardigan, stick my nose out of the window, and follow that up by adding a stole and a thick jacket. Better to be safe than sorry, after all! I end up hot, flustered and definitely sorry.

"The moral of the story is that your better half is always right about the weather!" A chuckle accompanies that smug aside!

This week has been sunny so far, with the weather behaving itself. “Don’t forget sunscreen, both of you!” comes the warning. A timely one, because the blazing African sun can be scorching, something we learnt to our detriment on our first visit to Johannesburg and went back to India, practically unrecognisable. Even my mother’s pugs failed to recognise us.

Going out for a meal in winter has its own charm. One tends to look for the warmest spot closest to the giant heaters. One evening, we went to a Spanish restaurant, where we had a choice. Either we could sit at the outer edge where there was no roof above our heads, which was no choice if you look at it, or we could meander inside and sit at a table right next to a boisterous group of revellers whose decibel levels could shatter glass. We managed to eat our meal in silence, with regular assaults to our eardrums, and when we got out, the silence enveloped us like a comforting mantle.

However, we did manage to hit the right note when we went to a cosy little place called ‘Hot Pot’ where broth was boiled at our table and we could add whatever veggies, proteins, condiments and spices to it. To say that it was a burst of flavours in our mouths would be an understatement.

All good things must come to an end! It is time for the Indian grandpa and grandma to head back to India. We have so much to chuckle over, so much to keep in our hearts, especially the feeling of warmth that overrides the harshness of winter and the cold that can freeze the marrow of our bones! Gratitude, above all, that we have our little family with all its foibles and idiosyncrasies, (two of which are definitely canine!), and the feeling that we always have a second home to come back to every year.

After all, if winter comes, can this Indian grandmum and granddad be far behind?

 

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This post is a part of ‘The Chuckle Chronicles Blog Hop’ hosted by Manali Desai and Sukaina Majeed under #EveryConversationMatters”