Why I want to be March?

If January was all about new beginnings,  February the season of love and April the start of summer then what is March all about? It’s always been one of those months that you couldn’t tell would make your skin warm or your feet cold. It was sometimes spring and sometimes nothing at all. But among all its unfamiliarity there is a sense of unsung solidarity I feel with it. What March has is something that no month can ever define. It’s the thrill of being unknown. Of not having other names or dates to look forward to. To not be remembered by holidays or grand events. But by small memories that might never carry a name. And it has this habit of running away. Of making the transition between the winter sun and summer heat so smooth that most of us don’t even realise it.
And this is what I want to be. To have the this sense of inebriated charm. That when I conjure up in someone’s memory it’s not just not just my name or what I’ve done. But this deeper sense of having shared an experience.Not necessarily an obvious thing like at a gala but smaller nuances of that careless conversations next to the park. I want to imbibe March’s comfort that surrounds like a veil. The one that makes everything okay.The one where it showers but it’s not yet monsoon, where the sun blazes but is not yet summer and where the  temperature might still be low but we don’t call it winter. Because March invokes that kind of confidence. To be what I  want and still be me. To believe in myself while walking forward. And in those around me. Because even March would be nothing without the other eleven.
But what made me notice March. To step back and notice this fluent transition between the cool morning breeze and the blazing afternoon Sun.Some might blame it on the morning coffee.  And I blame it on my hair. For creating a shackled nest in the wind and making me stand in that weather and remove every strand knot by knot. In contrast to my obvious discomfort was this obvious sense of effortless ease with which the wind blew and somewhere took away my worries too. So enjoy this understatement and relish sometimes not being the centre. Because sometimes what catches our mind at the sidelines might be so much more that what the centre stage can ever reap.