When fog descends, it obliterates all features that one is familiar with, the same old landscape becomes mysterious, captivating and enchanting. The swirling mist reminds one of stories written by Ruskin Bond in the hills of Mussoorie.
I enter the fog to reach a fish pond where the fish wait patiently to be fed. When i look back there is no home, just a blank wall of fog!
Such days happen a few times in the Delhi winter and when they do..they infuse the being with a chilling excitement