I miss the winters. I know spring is round the corner. But winters. . . they just came and went. I was remembering my childhood days. I used to hate winters. October mid, right after the much awaited college and school break, we used to head out in jackets and woollens. Braving the chill. Soon enough the fog would descend and doors and windows would be jammed with old newspapers to prevent the chill from freezing homes.
Those would be the days of charpoys and peanuts. Gur and tea and endless gupshup of moms and fraternity with woollens being knitted.
Cut to 2013 on and even a bit farther back maybe. First October chill shifts to November. Soon its not till 15 December that one can even look at woollens or switch off fans. And finally its just a few weeks in Jan. Holi used to be dreaded cause the chilled water, the norm in the festival would be thrown at you.
Not only that I spent weeks this time looking for hand knitted woollens and barely managed to find them. I was so sad, all were acrylic mixes. It was only the NGOs that come from Uttarakhand or the winter designer festival that I witnessed at the Kisaan Haat that I could find real wool and that also at a steep price. Now I wish I had learnt knitting and may actually plunge in.
It’s February, and woollens are being packed. I look longingly at the lifetime of shopping and knitting that I haven’t used in years. I miss the fog, the chill, the no sun, the rain. I actually love winters now.
Just like life, we seem to realise the value of something when its gone. But some changes are irreversible, like losing people, a weather, a species. Life would be so dull and scary with 12 months of summers. But who is to blame? I never thought I could be so passionate about the environment, but then I never thought that a day would come when I would say: “I love winters and miss them”.