I wore the sweater on my journey to Bangalore. It felt nice to wear a sweatshirt. Warm and cosy. Back home, if you're seen wearing one, you've either got fever or you're raving mad.
I've never owned a sweater. Somehow, in Goa, it really isn't necessary. The weather is perfect at 3 in the morning, when you're insane enough to be out or you happen to be between 15 and 30 years old.
Pleasant weather accompanied me on the arduous journey to Kumbalgudu. Of course, I couldn't skip the fact that you have to feel extremely hot in that thing once the clock strikes the wrong side of 12. But I enjoyed the feeling of snuggling up inside the XL, finding my comfort spot in the bus and sleeping away the journey. Besides, when you're slim, it does look kinda cute to wear oversized clothes once in a way. Now that I've piled on the pounds, it makes one look depressingly larger than one actually is.
When you come from a place that does not warrant wearing anything more than shorts and a tee, it becomes sort of exciting to wear a sweater. It's like dressing up for an occasion. You wear that piece of clothing reserved for special occasions. Standing in front of the mirror, you check to see how the collar sits, or the way it falls just above your buns and fits just right over your wrists.
Also, timing is everything when it comes to wearing your sweater. If it's noon and you happen to be in one, you will risk looking like grandpa on his way to the bank. It must be a little chilly with a slight wind whipping around the ears, so you can hug yourself and fall asleep in class. However, if you happen to one of those haunting the streets at some unearthly hour, just your sweatshirt and you will find a certain idiot turned into a human icicle. Warm inner wear is safe. After all, you have to show off that sweater of yours. ;)
I have been living in the World of the Sweatshirt for 4 months now. Been there, done that in the sweatshirt I'm writing this in. One thing I've learnt is to carry more than one sweater when you move away from home to a place far away from the dry cleaners. You're so used to it that you don't realise that you begin to smell 'sweatshirty' even when you aren't wearing one (which is extremely rare). Even your bag emits the sweatshirt aroma: that mouldy-clothes smell mingling with a little bit of sweat, and the dirt and grime of 4 months of walking filthy streets and smokey by-lanes.
The black sweatshirt that I began my journey in has become my second (albeit pretty loose) skin. It has received, most lovingly, the peeling skin, the cookie crumbs, the omnipresent dandruff, and the occasional longing look of someone without one. It's a different question that the someone would prefer to freeze than wear a sweater that hasn't been washed for 16 weeks.