Two weeks ago was the festival of Lohri, a Punjabi celebration of harvest and the end of winter. Children hoard hard-to-come-by wood for weeks beforehand and fires are lit in the street in a proximity to houses that would make a fireman sweat. But no one worries too much about that. It’s a cheap and cheerful way to party. Hosts hand out peanuts and popcorn, wandering bands come to play a Punjabi beat and neighbours dance round the fires.
Everyone assured me that the day after Lohri it would suddenly get warm. Delhi is a surprisingly chilly place in winter, especially when the winds blow down from the Himalayan glaciers up north. The houses are designed for summer heat and concrete and marble are unfriendly when temperatures hover around 7 degrees C.
Now, two weeks after Lohri, it’s colder than ever. Writing this, I’m wearing tights, two pairs of trousers, a thermal vest, sweater and fleece. And I have a blanket over my knees.
But Delhi being Delhi, it won’t be long before we are complaining about the heat as usual.
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tagged: Lohri, winter
