You know, silent winter mornings, they can be quite beautiful with a warm cup of tea, coffee or hot chocolate and warm thoughts. But the first few minutes out of the blanket can feel like a trial, the kind Anay was going through. It was 6:30 am. It was time for Anay to get up and head out for a brisk morning walk along with a light run. He didn’t have to go to college that day, so his mind had more space for peace.
Anay got ready and walked out the apartment, he paused for a second to the passing winter cooled breeze in the open lobby of the apartment building, before heading down the stairs. As he exited the building into the society ground, he paused once more allowing his physical self to get a bit more accustomed to cold as his breath became misted in the air.
Anay started to walk slowly along the walking track, gradually picking up speed. He looked around, there were a few other presences around on their intended path. As the body began to feel warmer, the legs elevated their movement to that of a light run.
Anay moved along the track and turned at the bend; his eyes recognised a familiar face. The hand-woven, taupe coloured sweater, a black muffler, a black coloured ear-covering woollen cap with white texture and a light grey woollen pyjama. Mr Negi was out in the winter.
Mr Negi carried a cloth shoulder bag. In it was a flask, with his sugarless black tea infused with ginger, clove, green cardamom. He also carried a long and broad white ceramic cup and an airtight plastic box containing two Marie biscuits. He would enjoy his morning tea here on the bench amidst the cold, seeing what he could see and feeling what he intended to. He chose this particular bench because that is where he used to sit and watch his grandson play and grow. In his early seventies he wholeheartedly enjoyed this time.
It was only during winter mornings when Mr Negi would appear in the outside world in the morning. The rest of the year away from winter, the bench would be empty or occupied by someone else. Some say, it was because Mr Negi was posted towards the mountains for most of his military service, the cold gave him a sense of familiarity. For others it was just an old man enjoying a cup of tea on a winter morning.
Anay slowed down and smiled at Mr Negi who smiled back and pointed at the flask offering Anay to have a cup as well. Anay raised his hand to indicate some other day. No one said anything to break the silence of the moment and both continued on with what they had come to do at this time of their lives.
written by Anuran Chatterji
2 responses to “The Seasonal Man”
A beautifully observed winter morning, Anuran. ❄️☕ There is something deeply comforting about the quiet relationship between Anay and Mr Negi—the exchanged smile, the unspoken invitation, and the shared understanding that sometimes silence says more than conversation.
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Nice.
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