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Romancing Snow: Myths and Realities

Snow looks beautiful in photos and our imagination. Romancing snow has its peril, says Soumya, with a dash of humour. A Different Truths exclusive.

Being born in a hot semi tropical country in the humid plains of Bengal, I was always fascinated by the idea of snow. Seeing pictures of snowfall, snowmen and snowball fights in books, making snowmen out of cotton wool in the crafts class, singing Christmas carols dealing with snow in our Catholic School and seeing snow covered fields in films served to heighten this longing.  In my imagination, the cool soft feeling of snow seem to be bliss especially on our scorching hot summer months.

The first distant view of snow was guzzling peaks of Himalayas seen from Darjeeling but as we always visited the hills in summer, this remained a distant chimera.

The first distant view of snow was guzzling peaks of Himalayas seen from Darjeeling but as we always visited the hills in summer, this remained a distant chimera. The first time, I saw snow close up from within touching distance was while travelling with my wife in Himachal. Excited, we stopped the vehicle to mess with it, and found it wet, messy and not too clean.

Luckily, further up, there was fresher snow, in pristine white sheets covering the rolling slopes. What an invitation to act like the Bollywood couples and roll down the snow, singing, and throw snowballs. We immediately succumbed.

What an invitation to act like the Bollywood couples and roll down the snow, singing, and throw snowballs. We immediately succumbed.

 But then the practical difficulties became evident. It obviously was numbingly cold. Secondly, it was wet. Thirdly, it hid rocks and bushes and frequently, horse dung and sheep droppings. Finally, it is very difficult to control the speed when you roll, and gravity makes you slide down at an alarming pace, in undignified positions, creating a mini avalanche as you go hurtling down, and are dumped unceremoniously in a heap at the bottom of the slope, wet, cold and dizzy.

I wonder how the Bollywood ladies did it with such panache, in skimpy clothes, smiling and singing all the while. We were bruised, out of breath, disheveled and shivering, though bundled in jackets with hoods.

Snowball fights too were a letdown. If you hold the snow for a few extra moments in your palm, while you are shaping it into a ball and taking aim, it turns into ice.

Snowball fights too were a letdown. If you hold the snow for a few extra moments in your palm, while you are shaping it into a ball and taking aim, it turns into ice. Therefore, the missile when it hits you is like a rock. It doesn’t elicit giggles or song, but yells, tears and swearwords, and can even draw blood. Another Bollywood myth busted.

Since that day, we have encountered snow numerous times, in all the Himalayan states of India, in Europe, North America and even in South Africa, and it has been beautiful, lovely, exciting, uncomfortable, threatening and even downright frightening. On two occasions, they were even life threatening.

The first view of snowfall was beautiful, and it melted on the skin. It was fun trying to catch it on your tongue. My little daughter was loving it.

The first view of snowfall was beautiful, and it melted on the skin. It was fun trying to catch it on your tongue. My little daughter was loving it. But on soon, it came down heavily, obliterating the view, and covering the track, making it hazardous to walk. This was especially frightening as we were on the trek to Kedarnath, and I was carrying my five-year-old daughter on my back, and we were on the narrow steep track with a deep gorge on one side. A delay had made us late and the weather had suddenly turned vicious. I lost contact with the rest of my family, and visibility was reduced to a few feet. A strong wind started and turned this into a blizzard. I took shelter under a rock and was wondering how long we would last before freezing and trying my best to shelter my child and keep her dry.

Suddenly out of the gloom, loomed up, an angel of mercy, in the shape of a pack

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horse, and his owner. For an exorbitant sum, they agreed to take us to shelter. How our angel of mercy found footing and saw his way I will never know, but we were soon delivered to the rest house, less than half a kilometer away, to be reunited with my panicked family. If this lone horse and rider had not been delayed on the way and bumped into us in that narrow track, we might have conceivably frozen to death within shouting distance of help, given the weather.

As my kids grew up, they tried sports in the snow, which alas I could never master despite sprains, bruises and frozen posteriors to show for my efforts

As my kids grew up, they tried sports in the snow, which alas I could never master despite sprains, bruises and frozen posteriors to show for my efforts, but next to the sea, snow was our favourite holiday destination.

We once again witnessed the might of snow during a road trip to Ladakh, near Druz, just after Zero Point, on route to Kargil, where we proposed to stay at the army camp. A typical political trouble had delayed us enroute, and it was late afternoon when we crossed Zero Point. A shepherd warned us to turn back as the weather had turned foul. There were ominous dull booms we could hear. After waiting a while we decided to go ahead following some army trucks.

The view that awaited us was mind-blowing. An entire mountain of snow had descended on the road, taking everything in its path.

The view that awaited us was mind-blowing. An entire mountain of snow had descended on the road, taking everything in its path. We were witnessing an avalanche.

We were stranded, but along with dozens of other vehicles. Ultimately, we were rescued by the army and spent the night in the camp, but that is another story.

Photo from the Internet

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Soumya Mukherjee
Soumya Mukherjee is an alumnus of St Stephens College and Delhi School of Economics. He earns his daily bread by working for a PSU Insurance company, and lectures for peanuts. His other passions, family, friends, films, travel, food, trekking, wildlife, music, theater, and occasionally, writing. He has been published in many national newspapers of repute. He has published his first novel, Memories, a novella, hopefully, the first of his many books. He blogs as well.
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