The Languidness of May

Its everywhere.
In people, in places, in the city…in this piece as well.
It’s best appreciated at Phoenix Mall, where bored teenagers gather to kill time. The girls all have an unstated uniform – hot pants, halter T-shirts, painted nails and flip-flops. The gait is a slow waddle. The guys follow.
The boys and girls at the check-out lanes in the supermarkets are slower now than ever, as are the Cafe Coffee Day baristas. Its all sossegado. No one is in a hurry. There is nowhere to rush to.
The traffic too seems to have decided to take it easy. It takes half the time these days to get from anywhere to anywhere, at least in South and Central Mumbai. The honking is down. The harried mothers clogging the 9.00AM and 4.00PM roads have all but disappeared.
The kids are constantly lounging. Glazed looks in front of the television. Hoping actually for school to start. Half the friends are away, the other half gathering in the house that is the coolest. The outdoor games are played without energy, usually in the twilight zone between dusk and sunset…and they are still soaked in no time.
Work is down. Customers, clients and referrers are all away. There is no sense of urgency, even among those who have come from out of town. And there are very few coming in from out of town anyway.
The clouds are in on this as well. Two days ago, in the evening, the rain-clouds gathered as if debating internally what to do. The sky was momentarily overcast, raising hopes that perhaps one or two of them would break away and burst and pour down. Eventually, listlessly, they all ambled away.
The markets are volatile. But the street talk is all “theek hai”, “hota hai”, “manage ho jayega”, “badme cover kar lenge”. Its as if everyone has momentarily learnt to detach himself/herself from the outcomes.
It’s the late May syndrome, which is getting more and more pronounced each passing year.
With some exceptions, though!
– The International airport is a fish-market.
– The railway platforms for outgoing trains are even worse, if there is anything that can be worse than a crowded fish-market.
– The main street of Interlaken looks like someone’s transplanted Five Gardens there.
– Istanbul looks like Colaba Causeway.
– And, London feels like being in a Karan Johar film with lots of fair-skinned extras milling around.
I’m not complaining.
It’s a good state of mind to be in.
And since we have only till 14 June, let’s just enjoy the limpidness and laziness and listlessness, while we can. (Does anyone know why all of these words start with “L”?)

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