This city is wrapped in a thickening mist that floats alluringly above its ankle. A shadow of the emphatic fog that shrouds London or the deep smoky air of Delhi. Someone looking at it through a window would swear there it chilly like a real winter. Although there are no greatcoats and shared street bonfires, there are mufflers, sweaters and people with flus everywhere.
It is surreal: you can see the cold but you can’t feel it. Not at all. This is the only time of year that you are not sweaty and uncomfortable. But you are very far from feeling the winter. Even if you can see it and smell it. Even if you feel like it is standing next to you in a dark room and bending out of reach every time you put you hand out to touch it.
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