Strawberry fields forever

Let it snow! December 27, 2011

Coming in to work during the holidays is mighty depressing. And truthfully no amount of self morale boosting or clinging on to the alluring prospect of finally getting that experiment work out perfectly or at all (on the umpteenth attempt) so as to end the year with that long awaited whoop of joy or peace at having been productive, actually works. This year somehow my lab days during the holidays seem to be doing a tad worse than usual. My holiday lull feeds on the drooping mood of a near empty department, sparsely populated streets, lack of the usual campus hustle bustle, all of which is quite usual for this time of the year but the other thing I seem to have begun missing this year is a real bout of snowfall, which strangely has given Pittsburgh a miss thus far. All these years here in Pittsburgh, I’ve come to quite like the snow, actually I love it, especially amidst the festive setting, the holidays, those gentle morning flurries that turn your nose pink and melt in your palms, the torrential outpourings that almost blinds you on your way back in the evening, except you that you enjoy wading through masses of it, now that you’re really not in any real rush to get anywhere and wake up the following morning to everything painted white, as if you were living in a scenery. It is the only time I can be somewhat guilt-free, run out of lab for a bit after lunch to catch a burst of those white flakes, lose myself looking at the flurries pouring outside my window, the meager rays of sunlight twirl around it and they sparkle like crushed diamond chips weaving delicate patterns on window sills, the fallen grass, and the lone park chair, these are perfect times to snuggle in bed for that precious extra hour, while its still pitch dark at eight in the morning and then loiter a bit on the way to work caressing snow-caked bushes that line the side-walks, unwatched.

I love winters, always did! Although honestly I think I love a little bit of any and every season as long as conditions apply. But maybe I have a special thing going on for the colder months and so here’s why:

Almost all my life winters meant the mild Calcutta nip in the air. Somewhere around Diwali, the nights came early, the woolens were pulled out of stores, you snuggled in layers of fuzzy warm shawls and heavy razais at all hours of the day and it was okay to be lazy. Winters were here. Like everything good in life your good times with it needed to be earned. Granted it was a struggle getting out of the comforter and readying for school or college. But once up you got to see a glorious sunrise, blow shapes of ‘smoke’ with your breath in the fog and if you took a walk outside on the grass, feel the dewdrops tickling your feet.

Winters to me are the ‘food season’. From matar ki kachori, gobhi, methi, muli ke paranthe, sarson da saag, gajar ka halwa to the most inviting notun guder mishti. No season indulges the taste-buds more shamelessly. But then who cares except that it means soul food at the fag end of the year. A little something to celebrate the highs, nurse wounds incurred from the year’s steep falls or find that little something that tastes like heaven and brings that much awaited dash of spice and excitement to an otherwise pretty uneventful year.

Winters are the time to remember that deliciously fragrant body-lotion that you were forced to take off from your summer shopping list because the unbearable heat and humidity left no scope of any real skin pampering. After all you buy something expensive with a great smell, can’t wait to start exuding that beautiful fragrance, and minutes after you get out of the bath, have barely finished applying it all over and step out of the air-conditioning, that it is all gone, now mingled with the sweat and grime, leaving you smelling nothing like that tub of fantastic aroma you wanted to be. In contrast winters are perfect to slather yourself with dollops of body lotion and actually have it last on you for a good while, also perfect to experiment with different kinds of smells and stock up with vengeance on the latest and hottest of body lotion fragrances.

I spent a large part of my life wearing short, boy-cut hair and actually you can do very little if you come from the insanely humid tropical climes when few things can be as blasphemous and torturous as leaving long or modestly long hair open. And so mom was always terrified I’d ruin my hair, lose its thickness by subjecting it to the relentless assault of the heat, pollution and grime, she also was pretty sure I was incapable of undertaking the necessary hair care measures and execute them to her standards of perfection, the result was my short, boy cut hair. And back then I didn’t care much for long hair especially if I was going to have to slog over maintaining it and then end up wearing it in boring pig-tails, plaits or buns. In later years when I moved to Pittsburgh, its long winters offered a perfect opportunity to wear my hair long, keep it open most times and of course experiment with styles. Furthermore with low humidity levels I think winters are somewhat easier hair maintenance times, needing far fewer washes, although you’d still need to moisturize enough, for which those hot oil massages should come handy and given the cold season perhaps a million times more comforting than in the sticky heat of the summers.

I’ve a thing for winter clothes, shoes and sundry. Granted I actually end up looking several sizes bigger once wrapped in some of those voluminous real winter beating jackets but few things beat the cold better than when you’ve donned a sexy leather jacket or a beautifully cut and layered coat teamed with a pair of jazzy leather boots. And when the holiday season sales beckon get yourself a mix of snazzy stoles, utilitarian woolen scarves in pretty colors and pairs of matching gloves to beat the winter blues.

Regardless of whether you’re a seasoned Pittsburgher who has withstood too many scathing snowstorms to care or someone like me coming from hot and humid India, experiencing snow is magical, even if for a little bit. You maybe freezing through your bone marrow, blinded by its steady outpouring, struggling as you trudge through so much snow that it comes up to your knees, you may fall flat on your face and end up with a blue elbow, have your travel plans go for a toss because of it, be forced to shovel your car out of the snow every morning before work, you may hate and curse it while its all happening and yet some days when you’re in no hurry to get anywhere watching the snow fall outside your window and render everything pristine is one of the finest things to experience. Add to it a good book, a bowl of your favorite soup or a large cup of hot chocolate and its a fairy-tale.

There are more things about winters that I love, memories of my kittens falling asleep on my father’s belly unnoticed on cold evenings when the power went out, finding their way under my comforter at nights, afternoons of watching old hindi movies from under the layers rendered complete with fried fritters of every kind, or gorging on oranges, exploring the many melas that came to Calcutta at this time, everything from the leather expo, the industrial fair to the small scale local affairs with a decent offering of eclectic junk jewelery pieces, inexpensive china, kitchenware, tonnes of other stuff, the Calcutta book fair, an annual affair that you waited for much of the year, the joy of exploring it one day, then again and again, tirelessly, invigorated by the crisp pages of new books and the endearing fragrance they filled you with, then coming home all swarthy, feet caked in dust and aching, hearts content but still wanting to go back again.

And somewhere between all of the winter action there is always the end to another year, a time to hold yourself back, re-think what the year gone by did or meant and then let go, build new bridges of hopes into the future, with the beginning of another new year tune yourself to a new cycle of seasons and open up to the countless possibilities they hold.