I idle around the house, nursing a nagging cold, one of those unrelenting ones that gets subdued by a dose of medicines, albeit temporarily, only to rally back, with defiant gusto, just a few hours later.
Outside, it’s a world in monochrome, an overcast sky, the ominous nimbus pregnant with rain, the anarchic wind in an unruly frolic.
I do love the rains.
The spray on my face.
The wind flirting with my locks.
The pitter-patter on the window pane music to my ears.
The intoxicating smell of wet earth driving my olfactory senses to sublime ecstasy.
But no, not today.
And no, it’s not a grudge I hold against the rains, given my obdurate cold.
It’s because its autumn.
Today, I crave for the blue skies to be back. Feathery wisps of cirrus, afflicted by the wanderlust bug, sailing aimlessly across the pastel-blue azure expanse of the heavens.
I wish to wake up to the heady fragrance of the shiuli, pristine white petals a sharp contrast to the flaming orange stalks.
I pray for the stholo poddo (changeable rose, as my horticulturist friends would refer to her) in my garden to bloom. The immaculate white in the morning that flourishes to a flamboyant pink by evening. The enigma of nature !!
My ears pine for the symphony of the dhaak.
And my olfactory senses yearn to be teased by the alluring fragrance of the dhuno.
I heave a sigh.
A silent prayer to the heavens above for the Sun God to be back in all His gorgeous glory for the next week.
And to beat my annoying cold and re-invigorate my battered taste buds, I long for something spicy. Some wicked heat.
And what better then than my kancha lonka murgi ?
Kancha Lonka Murgi. Succulent chicken legs. Sinfully caramelized onion. An overload of fiendish green chillies. The freshness of coriander leaves. A squeeze of citrus. Divine !!!
If my kancha lonka murgi is not addictive, what is ?