Orange.

The sun's been Orange all morning. Not the dull, glowy Yellow of monsoon-autumn it ought to be in the middle of October but the bright Orange of full-blown Fall. The chilly winds have not come yet. Not to Lahore at any rate. The weather turns and after years turns early. No waiting 3 weeks for the first signs of Fall. No waiting 2 months before the real cold begins. For once though, I wish it doesn't get cold too soon.

Orange.

The moon's Orange too. Early evenings it comes up Orange. Late nights it goes down Orange. A fuzzy ball hanging just over the horizon. It no longer glides let alone shine. It just hangs there. It's waiting to be plucked. It mopes. You can tell it mopes. There is a moon but no shimmery moonlight. Even in the night there's no chilly winds. The wind mopes too. You can tell though that it's about to get really cold soon. For once though, I wish it doesn't get cold too soon.

Orange.

The tents being sent up to Kashmir are Orange. And Green. And White. And Blue. There's warm clothes and jackets. There's blankets and beddings. There's gas and stoves. Everyone's thinking about the cold. For once though, I wish it doesn't get cold too soon.

Orange.

My Orange t-shirt is missing. For once though, I don't want to find it.