Summer at our doorstep.

The cold abates, the zephyr mellows, soft like linen it caresses your skin, the fog melts away, summer is at our doorstep, sweaty uncomfortable days and torturous nights plagued with mutant mosquitoes stands up and demands attention.

I hate the mere thought of what lies in store, I cant help but hope time stands still, come March and the great Delhi meltdown shall become, like a pot over an unabated fire, Delhi shall boil over.

Mere mortals like me shall suffer, without air conditioning, and always dressed in a black jacket I like millions shall be a victim of the ruthless summer sun.