Post Freezing Rain Blues: The smell of winter
......Aaj Phir Ami Aap ki Yaad Ayee.......

Winters smell the same everywhere, with a pinch of nostalgia and an echo of a hundred heartaches.

Always a little grey, 
with a crispy bite of chill, and a dense sharp smoky singed edge…

A rickshaw sputters in the background.

She is still pouring from the jug as the ice cubes clatter into the stocky square glass, and wondering why am I taking so long, still at the prayer mat. She is worrying because when I take long, it is because I must be crying …one more drama, another heartache…

I am crying.

And I am taking long.

Because,
if you close your eyes, the winters smell the same everywhere. And I can’t open my eyes, lest the moment loses its fleeting sweetness. I can hear the ice cubes slosh and a soft jangle of her bangles.

The prayer mat is soft, and musty, same as always.

I am bowing in the same direction,
… in a different room,
Same tears,
… different longing.