Spring has sprung

But I can’t help bemoaning the passing of winter

Icame back to my home in Delhi after a week-long vacation, only to find that the winter had done a disappearing act in my absence. Gone were those foggy, chilly mornings when you could see no further than your nose. Gone were the freezing nights when the only way you could get warm was by snuggling up to the heater. In its place was a mild mid-morning and evening chill that could be warded off by a mere shawl. And a sizzling afternoon sun that you could not sit out in for more than 30 minutes.

You’d think that I would be thrilled by these signs that winter had bid us goodbye and that spring had sprung. And you would be quite wrong.

I know that, like most denizens of Delhi, I complain about the winter, about the grey skies, about the pollution that takes your breath away, and about how quickly darkness descends on us each day. And yet, when the days begin to lengthen, when the temperature shows an upward trend, I feel a pang in my heart as

I bid winter farewell.

Don’t get me wrong, there is a lot to praise about spring, but today I am here to tell you what I will miss most about the winter. Here, in no particular order of importance, is a far from exhaustive list.

Snuggling under the covers every morning, prolonging the last few moments of slumber, safe in my razai. There is a special pleasure in lingering in a cozy bed, knowing that it is a citadel of comfort in a cold, cold world. In the depths of winter, I can spend up to an hour wavering between sleep and wakefulness, just luxuriating in the warmth of my bed. It’s a blissful feeling that can never be replicated once the weather begins to heat up.

Sunny afternoons spent on my balcony, reading a book as I peel the rind off an orange, separating the segments carefully so as to not tear the skin, and popping each one into my mouth and feeling that citrus explosion overwhelm my taste buds. I know, I know, you can eat an orange in the warmer months as well, but there is a special alchemy to devouring it as you bask in the balmy sunshine of winter.

Winter evenings, to my mind, are best experienced with a mug of steaming hot chocolate in hand. You need full-fat milk for this, none of that skinny nonsense. You must stand by the stove, patiently stirring till the chocolate mix has dissolved completely, and the milk is bubbling gently. Then transfer to a mug, and let the fun begin. Start off with tiny sips, letting the chocolate coat your tongue, until the sweetness envelopes your senses. And before you know it, you will be gulping it down, and making another. Well, hurry up, because this is the authentic taste of winter, and you only have a month or two to savour it.

IN THE DEPTHS OF WINTER, I CAN SPEND UP TO AN HOUR WAVERING BETWEEN SLEEP AND WAKEFULNESS, JUST LUXURIATING IN THE WARMTH OF MY BED. IT’S A BLISSFUL FEELING THAT CAN NEVER BE REPLICATED ONCE THE WEATHER BEGINS TO HEAT UP

Winter evenings, to my mind, are best experienced with a mug of steaming hot chocolate in hand