Do not believe the textbooks! As far as Dhaka is concerned, there are only two seasons: summer and monsoon. "This time it will be different" -- many Dhakaiites prophesise every mid-November wishing for a cold winter. However, as is always the case, it is wishful thinking!

Game of Thrones has given the world an adage: "Winter is coming". Well, winter comes and goes elsewhere, but not in Dhaka!

Winter seems to be making an appearance nowadays in the capital but rest assured this appearance will only be a cameo. Nevertheless, for those who do not mind putting a pause amidst the rush of the metropolis, subtle hints of the season are all around us. Sure, in Dhaka, winter may not be as "loud" as it is in some of the snowy cities of the world; nor is it serene like the rustic countryside of Bangladesh. There are, however, little signs that would tell you that winter has indeed arrived.

Photo: Star

I first get the feeling that this season is around the corner when I hear the Maghrib adhan before 5:30pm. The shortening of the day, to me, is the first signal that winter is on its way; no fog in the early morning or no worthy drop in temperature. Sweaters and jackets are still tucked in in some forgotten corner of the wardrobe not to be taken out anytime soon.

Soon after, however, you see badminton courts on the streets and empty plots. Children and adults who are otherwise glued to the screen playing video games take up the racket, demarcate lines on the hard pitch of the neighbourhood street, light it up with bulbs, and play game after game until late at night.

Somewhere around this time, countless pithawalas take their seats on the roadside -- inconspicuous, but busy -- selling bhapa pitha and chitoi along with bhortas.

Photo: Star

Then in no time, you begin attending barbeque parties which signals, to me, that winter has arrived. The underprivileged people huddle around a small fire in a desperate attempt to find some warmth -- another sign, albeit distressing, that winter is here.

I spend a few minutes on the balcony before retiring for the night, recapping the day that has been and the many challenges Dhaka shall throw again tomorrow. I am accompanied by an imposing high-rise some distance away. In the thick of the winter, though, that building is not just obscure, but non-existent, owing to the fog.

As for mornings, there is no scene of a man climbing up a date palm tree for kejurer rosh (date palm sap). There is sometimes no immense fog either. If there is any beauty of chilly mornings in Dhaka, it goes unnoticed, as we battle through the cold to reach the workplace or campus, basically busying ourselves to get on with the rush.

Photo: Star

Sitting in traffic I enjoy sips of warm, bitter coffee from a tumbler. I am amazed that even though the windows of my car are almost shut, I have not switched on the A/C, and the fact that the brief period of winter saves fuel costs makes me happy.  That happiness is short-lived. A couple of cold waves later, just as soon as people start getting used to the weather, it is spring again, or rather, summer, because Dhaka has only two seasons!