Silence of the wind.
One of the most noticeable absences in Surat ever since I came down from the Himalaya?
The wind. It’s gone missing. What’s already absent by form (cannot be seen) is rendered more absent here (cannot be felt).
Arrested by the winding buildings of the city, it barely meets the ground. So it appears quiet outside — there are no secret streams of air trying to take me here and there.
I notice this more than anyone else for I have become an expert on optimal weather. Windy atmosphere makes life pleasant and inspires creativity. Its spectral presence is something to marvel at. If you can set aside how something works, if you can sometimes leave intelligence to rest, you can easily marvel at things. If you know how to see, a gust of wind is a fine act of magic.