Let them sweat. I think as I look at my windows. Not the technological ones. I mean the shut and close types. I am in Chicago and winter is beginning to set in and my windows are open.
Brrr!! It is cold. This city is cold. And winter has not even begun properly yet. Coming from a hot and humid country, especially from the seaside city of Mumbai, I find the Windy City quite frosty. I don't mind the unpredictable rains here- as a matter of fact, I love it. It reminds me of the incessant rains during the monsoons back home.
But the cold. Oh dear. I am one of those millions of fellow Indians who bundle up at anything below 25 degrees Celsius and grumble at how chilly the weather has turned. So, coming to a place that has single digit temperatures is hugely difficult.
It's not just the climate that I am adjusting to. I am also getting used to the simple actions that are a given in cold climates. Like sealing air conditioners. I never knew people do that. Like buying multi-layered winter gear that needs to combat extreme winter, severe moisture and blasting winds. Like adjusting temperatures on the heaters. Temperature monitoring was something I have encountered only in my college laboratories.
I did not even know until this first winter that windows sweat. That was only for people- especially in overcrowded trains. It came to my attention during when I first looked out for tiny snowflakes. Ah, the first sight of snowing is indeed a delightful one. But then I got distracted by the row of dewdrops on my clear glass windows. Daily wiping was now leaving me vexed, so we called the apartment staff who oversee such stuff. An affable, burly engineer informed me: Madam. your windows are sweating. I've used a sealant but you will need to keep your windows open for a while daily -just a crack. Especially when you cook.
An inwardly horrified me kept a pleasant face. Even after the poor guy happily mentioned- it is just around seventy outside. [in degrees Fahrenheit]. I nodded by way for reply. But I don't think he believed it. And he is right. Seventy is cold for me. Keep the windows open indeed. No, I won't.
Let them sweat, I thought as I stared at the windows. But they stared right back at me with tear-rimmed corners. Hmmph! Oh well, wiping windows is a bigger ordeal. So, here I am, coffee mug in hand; bundled up in a cosy sweater, writing away madly while the cold swirls around me from the open windows. The freshly brewed coffee is healing, the melody of keys being typed is soothing and my clean, dry windows are offering me a beautiful verdant scene- almost like extending a magnificent olive branch. I think I've taken it.
Brrr!! It is cold. This city is cold. And winter has not even begun properly yet. Coming from a hot and humid country, especially from the seaside city of Mumbai, I find the Windy City quite frosty. I don't mind the unpredictable rains here- as a matter of fact, I love it. It reminds me of the incessant rains during the monsoons back home.
But the cold. Oh dear. I am one of those millions of fellow Indians who bundle up at anything below 25 degrees Celsius and grumble at how chilly the weather has turned. So, coming to a place that has single digit temperatures is hugely difficult.
It's not just the climate that I am adjusting to. I am also getting used to the simple actions that are a given in cold climates. Like sealing air conditioners. I never knew people do that. Like buying multi-layered winter gear that needs to combat extreme winter, severe moisture and blasting winds. Like adjusting temperatures on the heaters. Temperature monitoring was something I have encountered only in my college laboratories.
I did not even know until this first winter that windows sweat. That was only for people- especially in overcrowded trains. It came to my attention during when I first looked out for tiny snowflakes. Ah, the first sight of snowing is indeed a delightful one. But then I got distracted by the row of dewdrops on my clear glass windows. Daily wiping was now leaving me vexed, so we called the apartment staff who oversee such stuff. An affable, burly engineer informed me: Madam. your windows are sweating. I've used a sealant but you will need to keep your windows open for a while daily -just a crack. Especially when you cook.
An inwardly horrified me kept a pleasant face. Even after the poor guy happily mentioned- it is just around seventy outside. [in degrees Fahrenheit]. I nodded by way for reply. But I don't think he believed it. And he is right. Seventy is cold for me. Keep the windows open indeed. No, I won't.
Let them sweat, I thought as I stared at the windows. But they stared right back at me with tear-rimmed corners. Hmmph! Oh well, wiping windows is a bigger ordeal. So, here I am, coffee mug in hand; bundled up in a cosy sweater, writing away madly while the cold swirls around me from the open windows. The freshly brewed coffee is healing, the melody of keys being typed is soothing and my clean, dry windows are offering me a beautiful verdant scene- almost like extending a magnificent olive branch. I think I've taken it.
