Bombay is experiencing winter, okay?

So, yeah, we’re feeling it, hence some of us have worn sweaters and demonstrated our feelings on social media, for is that not its god-given purpose?

Frenz, it is a fact that people don’t like other people’s happiness and always want to pull them down. These people are mostly from Delhi, but their attitude is unfortunately spreading.

As you know, Bombay is currently experiencing winter. I mean, the real one, not the Yari Road winter, wherein people to wear boots and turtle necks year-round in case they suddenly have to do a look-test for a Yashraj honeymoon song. So, yeah, we’re feeling it, hence some of us have worn sweaters and demonstrated our feelings on social media, for is that not its god-given purpose?

A friend who only sends me an annual text—‘HNY’—suddenly called me. “Suna hai tujhe badi thand lag rahi hai”. “It is cold,” I said, coldly. “My husband showed me your picture before he went for his early morning bicycle ride. He was laughing a lot. Today he went late because it’s so misty in Delhi right now.” Ok Komolika! So, you people have kohra. Hmff.

Ignoring zaalim zamana I made myself an amazing spicy stew full of winter veggies, and obviously posted it on Facebook to commemorate the cold weather. Comments from England people: what is cold? Comments from Minnesota people: is it snowing? Comments from Kashmir people: laugh-cry emoji. Behaviour of Delhi people? Laugh reax on every comment—because they started this, right? As you know, I have a yellow notebook where I maintain a record of all my grievances, including behaviour of people on social media, grimly with a jaundiced eye. All this has been recorded. I will respond appropriately when they display unseemly ecstasy about some drizzle and chai-pakoda weather in their monsoon-mukt muluks.

Subsequently, I restricted myself to only seeing Bombay people’s posts, where janata were gently competing suburb-wise for which was colder, Kharghar (“Kashmir vali feels hain”), Ghatkopar (“yahan chai is getting cold in one min), Nalla Sopara (‘is the new Nainital bro”) or Mira Road (“Matheran ban gaya hai bhai”). Colaba tried (predictably, with a pun, they’re so 1978)—“Cool-aba folks!” and was rightfully ignored. I discovered an important piece of social history—a day in 2008 when it was 8.5 degrees and young Bombayites were traumatised because they had to wear half-pant vala school uniform or some (no doubt from Delhi) parents did not allow them to put on the geyser. I noted it was not only Delhi people who were landing up with their ‘our microwave is cooler than that’ comments, but also people from Odisha, the Northeast and Vishakhapatnam, with how 13 degrees signals the gentle return of spring in their parts and children are put out covered in mustard oil to pickle in the sun. What is this akhand Bharat of winter-trolling?

Why do Delhi people grudge us our five-day winter, fleeting as nargis flowers? Why are they being as touchy as NRIs, just because they have foreigner weather and a few days of Gulzar brand sardiyon ki dhoop, kacchi, pakki, simadti, simat-ti and mehekti? We simply like their pictures in our good-hearted way, they should learn from us.

Anyway frenz, my feet are cold. I need to go put on socks and make that expensive hot chocolate I ordered off Instagram. Yes, I got, dark chocolate and mint-chocolate. Ukhad lo jo ukhadna hai.

Paromita Vohra is an award-winning Mumbai-based filmmaker, writer and curator working with fiction and non-fiction. Reach her at paromita.vohra@mid-day.com

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