“Welcome, winter. Your late dawns and chilled breath make me lazy, but I love you nonetheless.” These words of Terri Guillemetes come to my mind when the rainy season slowly gives way to winter.
Before travel restrictions were imposed to combat the current pandemic, I used to be reminded of the impending cold days by the presence of vendors from Bhutan selling winter clothes on the roadside. It was also the time when women utilised their spare time knitting woollen garments for their loved ones using long needles and rolls of woollen threads of different colours.
The early days of winter are pleasant. The rainy season has bid goodbye, leaving the sky clear. I am no more required to rush to the windows at the dead of night to close them when sudden showers wake me up. As the night advances, bringing down the temperature, I reduce the speed of the ceiling fans and resume my slumber.
We get a taste of real winter in December and January when strong winds start blowing from the north. Woollen blankets and garments are taken out from the cupboard and aired. As the temperature goes down, I replace my usual nightdress with woollen sweaters and add caps, socks and gloves later. The thin blankets will give way to thicker ones, sometimes a couple of them. Windows and doors are closed before the cold air has a chance to enter the bedroom. In the morning, I wait eagerly for the first cup of tea and delay going to the lobby with my laptop and the day’s newspaper.
Television channels repeatedly show trees, buildings, and roads covered with a white blanket of snow in the States near the Himalayas. Revellers in Shimla in thick woollen clothes wearing large sunglasses and caps that cover the entire face are shown throwing snow at one another. The surface of lakes in Kashmir gets frozen, bringing the flow of visitors to an end. Even water in the taps gets frozen, making life difficult for people.
I feel sorry for our soldiers on duty at high altitude regions bordering unfriendly neighbours. They have to face the chilling wind, and the temperature often goes down to 40 to 50 degrees C below zero. Their winter kit consists of three-layered clothing that includes specially made jackets and trousers with a glacier poncho to brave out the wind chill factor, goggles, face masks, gloves, and snow boots with a thick woollen lining, socks, and caps that fully cover their heads and ears. They are forced to sleep in special sleeping bags and drink water from bottles that retain the warmth of its contents for a long time.
While we are getting ready to face the winter months, my home state of Kerala is reeling under heavy rains and floods. Even in January, when the state is supposed to have ‘tree-freezing cold’, it does not appear so severe to the visitors from outside. In the past, I had never seen people wearing sweaters there. Since houses rarely had bathrooms, we took our baths in rivers and ponds. Though we would shiver while walking to the bathing ghat early in the morning, the still water turned out to be pleasantly warm once we took the dip.
