The winter is still to set in but its the pre winter that brings with it a lot of chill that reaches down to the bone. When the winter is at its peak, the mind and the body is ready for the chill and the winds and the dry cold but just when the summers have ended and the winter is just beginning to shape up, the mind and the body feels. The winter is not as hard where the feelings disappear nor the harsh summers where the same occurs in a different fashion.

Personally i like this time of the year because of the evening smoke all around, the halogens glowing softly in the distance, workers on a building trying to wind up their daily activity, the wind becoming more penetrative but some of the things are constant like the screaming in the background, the noise of the bullet motorbikes, the echo of the train engine's whistle late in the night. Its beautiful at night when its silent and cold and smoky. I sometimes walk to my terrace and stand up in this pre winter chill. That's the only place of luxury i have given myself, that's the only moment i am myself, moment when i feel alive and also because i like the wind conjoining my bones cutting through my skin.

I have watched the ember lights on the upcoming buildings and the small movement of people working in the nights under those lights, working in the cold, giving their inch, their souls, their sleep and what for? Would they even be remembered once the building is made and stand like an elegant tower or a big shopping Mall amid the frenzy of the town? Still giving ur best even knowing that nothing would be recognized is immense. What then is the prime mover? the money? the hunger? the creative genius?

As i stand and watch the buildings under the halogen lights, i feel a strong breeze running into my back, the sound of the swift breeze as if enjoying its ride.

And as i watch the wind and the sky and the darkness and feel the coldness and the silence, i suddenly feel an urge to be with someone, with anyone who would just sit besides me. Its not necessary to talk although i feel an urge to speak, not about anything special but about anything. One of the questions i usually ask people is about the color of their walls but we can pass that, just sit or talk or just be there in togetherness and then i flip through my phone and my phone book and scroll till i reach the end and then i scroll again hoping that it might change?

And i sit as the wind starts to get colder and the noises start to disappear and the night reaches its climax and my body feels suspended.

I sit, i walk, i stand, i flip my phone, i look into the darkness, i look into the cold smoke, i breathe slowly, i breathe heavily, my mind wanders, i think of some moments, i think of some good moments, think of a lot of bad moments, think of some nice people, think of a lot of bad people, i shrug, i walk, i sit.

I need to speak, to talk, to someone...
and the Wind Cries back...