I put on the soft knit, pearl white sweater while I look out of my dorm room and sigh
It’s 8:00 am, and the skies are grey, the dry autumn leaves now drenched in rainwater
While I conceal my dark circles and put away the coconut oil
Coconut oil that’s become this hardened, thick, paste.
My foods don’t need a refrigerator anymore
The pleasant petrichor fills the air
And I walk towards the art gallery
With my shoes, because of course, who needs fancy slippers in the cold weather
In my soft knit, pearl white sweater
And I pause
There’s no cool breeze
A few drops of water vapour in the air
From the puddles of rain that fell last night
I feel the tiniest prick
And I look further
And there stands the sun.
As I walk slower so as to not let myself sweat and destroy my perfect sweater
I get closer to the cafeteria and I..smell…is that?….sambar?
My brain tells me, it’s just the weather hun, you’re hallucinating
Oh I wouldn’t mind making coconut chutney out of the coconut hair oil I’ve carefully preserved on my shelf.
And now the sun pierces my skin
I am so foreign to this weather.
And I suppose so are Canadians, as they walk out of the subway station in their fur coats and leather jackets.
And for some reason, the background music in this office makes me feel like sitting in an Indian breakfast restaurant, while the waiters generously pour filter coffee into my cup
You only find North Indian food here.
Thick naan and Punjabi food.
Not that I don’t like it!
But, does anyone know what it’s like to be from the south?
I think I’m a tad bit homesick now.