Coldest Day

The 'Gang of Big Laafpur'

Soldiering on in the bitter chill

They said it was the coldest day of the season yesterday. Today it felt even colder. So it was no surprise that more than half the Club did not turn up in the morning. Those who did were, without exception, wrapped in woollens from top to toe.
Shekhawat looked every inch a renegade from the Chambal ravines, a dark muffler and cap hiding his head and face. Only the rusty rifle was missing. And Nahid Khan, for the best part, tried emulating the thakur from 'Sholay' by rolling down the sleeves of her pullover to cover her hands.
Then there was Qadir Bano with only her eyes visible behind a black shawl she had wrapped around her head downwards to cover her body as well. Most of the others were similarly disguised as though they had just returned from beating up the students of some university.
Somehow it seemed like the Delhi winter had descended upon Mumbai. Never before had it felt so cold in the Garden. But Karun Sharma had another take on the weather. “Looks like Hingland’s cold has arrived here,” he said in an oblique reference to the visit of Shekhawat’s grandson from London.
Shekhawat though was in no mood for any humour. Even before the exercises were over, he was ready to leave for home, muttering to himself, “Ufff, bahut thand hai”. He had curtailed the exercises by dropping the facial round (of the tai-chi exercise) saying that there was “no part of anybody’s face exposed” to be worked on.
In the end, it must be said that the extreme cold had one positive effect. There was no time wasted during the exercises. No idle talk, no joking around, no fooling about. We went through our routine business-like at double-quick speed. And there were still 10 minutes to spare when we were done. By then Shekhawat had already left!

Bihari Milwani:
I am sure everyone was missing Banoo Appa’s steaming, hot tea.