It snowed in my city last week. This is not a regular occurrence because we are in the southern part of the United States where winters are not as severe as up north. So the excitement was inevitable. They say the first snow of the season is as enthralling as a long-awaited gift when surprise and wonder greet you at the same time.
The kids in the neighborhood were seen playing outside, indulging in crazy, creative sports. Everyone wanted to capture the gorgeous white landscape and seized the opportunity to take pictures. There is something special and beautiful about every season that brings zest to our lives.
What was our winter like?
I am speaking for those of us who were born in the late sixties when globalization and digitalization had not struck India. Simple events made up our winters. Yet those days might have had some magical power. Otherwise why would they still remain graphically engraved in my mind decades later?
With a tropical monsoon climate embracing my state of Assam, we were not acquainted with snow. We just knew the winter sun. What an irony though! When you are little, running around in the sun, you are oblivious of the fact that you are generously and organically getting doses of Vitamin D that you may later have to buy in a bottle!
The joy of picnicking
Winters in Assam were rather short. Although they had nothing to do with the academic calendar, when in school, I associated the season to the brief respite we had starting a few days before Christmas.
Picnics were (and still are) very common in that weather. Something that I was enthusiastic about was having a big family picnic on New Year’s Day. It was definitely not a yearly ritual, but we did go out for a few of those. A picnic outing with friends was always unlimited fun!
The weather used to be pretty benevolent for outdoor activities. Some facilities allowed cooking at the venue. On other occasions, the food was cooked at home and packed to be eaten out. Honestly, it was the company rather than the food that I was excited about.
The spirit of Magh Bihu always enraptured!
Midway into the New Year, we in Assam, like the rest of India, celebrate our harvest festival, Magh Bihu. This was something that I grew up with. The grand feast on Bihu Eve, coupled with bonfire conversations under the night sky, was among the attractions. Scrumptious delicacies which included sweets made out of sesame, coconut, rice flour, and jaggery pampered our tastebuds on the main day. The anthology of winter stories remains incomplete without incorporating the Magh Bihu chapter.
‘Tis the season for weddings galore!
Marriages definitely happened all the year round, but winter somehow felt like the unofficial wedding season! Even these days, so many of them happen around this time. Logically, it is easier to have an event when it is not stiflingly hot.
There were so many weddings that I remember attending! As a child, I preferred to be on the bride’s side. It was always a pleasure to see her decked in exquisite finery.
Relishing the seasonal fruits, berries, and snacks
The market was flooded with oranges as winter set in. It was a more fulfilling experience when you ate the fruit sitting outside under the sun rather than eating it indoors. The Indian olive, called jolphai in Assamese, was another hot favorite. It could be eaten raw with a pinch of salt and was also used for making pickles. I vividly remember my mother lining up her glass jars with olive pickle.
My father would go for walks every evening, a habit that he continued until the very end of his life. Sometimes on his way back home, he would get roasted shelled peanuts from a vendor who had his cart stationed in the corner of a street. What made the peanuts tastier was the roasted black salt, spiced with chilli powder, that came alongside it in a tiny packet.
On days when it was really cold, we would use a small coal stove and sit on the porch. Gathering around it, we engaged in juicy conversations and savory snacks.
Welcoming the goddess with open arms!
Falling in late January or early February is the festival of Vasant Panchami, also known as Saraswati Puja. Typically, this marks the end of winter, signaling that spring is on its way.
Dedicated to Maa Saraswati, the goddess of learning, the occasion is considered very auspicious for students who seek blessings for academic progress.
There is a practice among girls, even the little ones, of excitedly wearing the traditional attire, mekhela sador on the puja day. This was an occasion we eagerly looked forward to, and oh what fun we had!
Jujube (called bogori in Assamese) is considered to be a favorite fruit of the goddess and is not meant to be eaten before it is offered to her. Eating the fruit without it being given to the deity is supposed to invite her ill humor. Although I was tempted to eat those berries, my childhood innocence prevailed. I sincerely believed in this so-called “truth” that was circulated around.
Simple pleasures warmed our hearts in the winter!
Those of my generation will perhaps have similar stories to tell. Maybe there will be variations here and there with a few shades brighter or lighter.
Born before the digital era, we did not have God’s plenty to choose from. Nevertheless, we were happy and enjoyed every season to the fullest, making the best use of all that we had. Unlike present times, Facebook or Instagram did not exist to store those events. We simply froze those joyous moments in our hearts to revisit them whenever we wanted.
rashmi writes 