The Husband grew up in Ooty, enjoying freezing winters and pleasant weather all year round. Me, I grew up in Bombay, where a temperature of 22 degrees is our excuse for winter. Each ‘winter’, as the temperature dips, out come my thick socks, my flannel sweatshirt and my special quilt, made with 10 kgs of cotton.
Ever since I shifted to this really high floor of this really high, high-rise, I haven’t once switched on the fan,as the breeze that blows in from my open windows is pleasant enough for me. Yes, I do feel colder than most people I know.
With the onset of summer, The Husband has started feeling the Mumbai heat. The outcome, the air-con is turned to a low 15 degrees for a while as I shiver in my thick socks, under my 10 kg duvet, which The Husband has christened ‘The Monster’. I think I need to get my flannel sweatshirt out of storage.