Sunday, December 2, 2007


Yesterday was the first time this winter season when it snowed all day. No matter how much I try to deny the fact, winter has really begun. I resisted going out all day yesterday, though I had so much to do at school, just because it was snowing and I did not want to be outside. Instead, I spent almost the whole day lazing around, watching the classic mystery videos: Lord Peter Wimsey, Poirot, A Most Mysterious Murder, Campion… I was all bundled up wearing the soft and warm lavender colored socks that my friends Anand and Aarti gave me last Christmas; and wrapped up in a pretty olive-green throw that my sister gave me when I moved this summer. I sat half-sunk in my huge, comfy wing back chair, my feet resting on the hideous but comfortable mustard-colored ottoman that doesn’t really fit the rest of my apartment. Scattered around me in close proximity, so I wouldn’t have to even get up, were the TV and DVD remote controls, a box of tissues, several plush cushions, the phone, and numerous other exemplars of luxurious, indulgent, hedonism. On the piano stool (which became a makeshift table for the day), lay a half-open, half-read volume of the complete works of Conan Doyle. Balanced atop this was a cup of hot drink. I alternated all day between drinking mulled apple cider, and Brooke Bond Red Label. I had lit scented candles all over the apartment and soon my senses swam in the autumnal fragrances of apple, cinnamon, vanilla and hazelnut. All I needed now was a crackling fire, and a warm hearth, but one can’t have everything. I was supremely happy… who wouldn’t be? And I willfully pushed all thoughts about the impending doom (thesis defense) from my mind.

If I had lots and lots of money, I would give up work and relive yesterday all over again, every day. But unfortunately that day is not yet come. Today I had to come to school to get on with research. I was greeted when I got out by the sight of a snowed-in car. There had been a good quantity of sleet yesterday, and the road was icy. I was engaged in de-crusting the ice off my car and digging the wheels out, when my neighbor and his friend (whose giant four-wheel drive truck and come undone in about two seconds, and who persisted in smirking at my neighbor and me like a benevolent father would at the scrapes of silly children) came by and helped me. I always have luck in having wonderful young men help me dig out my cars (re: my post The Sweet Shovelers from last winter). Anyway, we eventually got my car out and onto the icy treads in the middle of the road, and I was able to drive to school. Oh! Would that it were yesterday again!


ian skidmore said...

You must always wish for the impossible, it is the only thing worth having.
Ian Carmichael is a friend of mine. He married my producer on the BBC Kate Fenton, herself a very amusing author. The Nine Tailors ws filmed round here . Sayers father was a Vicar a few miles away

Beautiful Mind said...

A very beautiful description of your comfortable room.Bye the way I had now known that when it snows the cold is less rather than having a dry winter.

Beautiful Mind said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
ian skidmore said...

My daughter who works in crisis management also runs a childen's chariy in India where my granddaughter worked in her gap year, my othe daughter is Heasd of Art in a College which has branches in India. She visits twice a year to test the students. My three oldest friends were officers in the Indian Army. One unhappy telephone conversation wih an Indian caklkl centre must be set against many happy and productive calls toCalcutta. I am very pro-Indian