About these months

This is my favorite time of the year…summer is planning to give way to winter. The days are sunny but the sun is not irascible. When the lucid sunshine filters through pristine leaves it creates a dreamlike ambience. OK, I’m sounding a bit esoteric but I really do feel as if a transient peace permeates through the atmosphere and I just want to lie somewhere — ideally under a shady tree — and spend the rest of my life in that disposition. I especially love it when blissful droplets of shadows lazily dance over the floor when the trees sway in tandem with the wind. The wind, yes, it’s warm, loving, relaxing, and if you care to discern, somewhere hidden it has the hints of the approaching winter. This mood will go on till the end of November. I do most of my reading during these days.

I remember one such evening a couple of years ago when I was sitting outside with a book in my hand. One would rather call it an afternoon. No, I wasn’t married, so it must have been more than three years ago. I sat on a chair, the branches of the Gulmohar tree stretched over my head, a leisurely wind played with the trees and the surrounding plants, and some white clouds the size of cotton balls moved directionless upon the backdrop of a clear blue sky. I was reading, if I can remember correctly, Nicholas Nickleby. The reason why I remember this is, this too is a book, like The Brothers Karamazov I took a long time to complete reading — more than 5 months. The difference between both the books is, I started reading Nicholas Nickleby on that day, somewhere around August-September, and I’m just about to complete reading The Brothers Karamazov by now.