Calcutta is far, far warmer than Delhi. Calcuttans think this is cold and travel around be-sweatered and monkeycapped (recent events in the world of sport have led to my flatmate calling them teri maa ki caps) and slightly shocked at my seeming indifference to the weather. To which I reply, in tones of superiority, that I am from Delhi.
Embarrassingly I have now caught a cold and am living on soup and tea. There is a lesson to be learned here.
Then again, if it hadn’t been for this cold (and its attendant sore throat) I would never have discovered the joy that is Dilmah’s wild cherry tea. So. Not so bad, really.
