This is the first winter in 3 years, that I am staying in London all through.
I have to say I was not a big fan(still dragging my feet on this one), but it seems to be growing on me. Finally I have now invested in some cosy woollens.
When I moved to London, it was right in the middle of winter, I experienced weather shock much more than culture shock. Coming from the hot hot Madras to the cold grey London, it has taken me 3 winters to finally understand what winter is in all its glory and gloom.
I used to walk around in my flats/pumps with no socks in the first one. Now, looking back, I dont know how I did it.
I dint even notice it, until I started getting astonishing comments from everyone around me.
Maybe my mind and body were mourning the Madras heat and refusing to acknowledge winter. That is what I would like to think anyway.
My aunt always insisted I had oranges every night to fight away any on coming cold(which I am prone to). That has now become a habit.
I often start to eat something and make it a habit, because I noticed someone enjoying it or their habit made an unconscious impression on me. The most important part of the habit to me is the subtle nuances that each person dresses it up in.
Take the orange for example, my aunt always eats them watching television just after dinner and right before bed; a friend cuts it into quarters and eats it for breakfast; another friend can peel the skin off in one long curly peel and had it for a mid-day snack. I have tried all of it in different phases. I am in the slicing-open-with-a-knife-and-having-it-for-a-snack mode now. The pretty fruit knife sure helps.
Food is about associated memories for me. Each food either reminds me of a person or an incident.
Does this happen to you?
