SnowFlakes

With the months, the colour of my world keeps changing. From the soothing and suave green of the summer, through the resplendent amber-red brew of autumn, the dreary and drab brown of fall to the seraphic white of the winter. Each shade of nature has its own benedictions and nuisances.

Today the first flakes of snow descended upon the otherwise pale and plebeian earth. Gazing at the drony and dreamy descend of the fluffy and flimsy snowflakes, swirling their way to the ground, somehow wanes the pace of the world around. The tiny pearly flakes landing on the shoulders and getting trapped in the hair render a transcendent bliss. The world draped in silver reflects a pristine sanctitude and tranquility. The light reflecting from the ivory of the earth illuminates the melanic gloom cast by the gray sky. The white and the gray make every scene appear like a portrait up on the wall.

I remember the first time I witnessed this exquisite phenomenon. It was in November 2005, my freshman year! An 8:15 a.m. General BCCB class! The professor, since already had some experience in giving lectures to snow-deprived morons from tropical countries who had never witnessed snow fall before for a few years now, warned us before the commencement of the lecture that in case there is snowfall anytime during the lecture, students who lack the poise and would like to run out or gawk through the window, should be dissuaded from attending the lecture. On this threat, me and my fellow brownies, exchanged a gaze which murmured “What is he talking about? Lecture is way more important!”  .. 20 minutes later… more than half of the class was at the window with eyes open wide gaping at the white fleecy flakes drifting down the gray sky. The professor simply shook his head and went back to teaching about the Mitochondria. Tonight the ground is too warm to be silver. The snowflakes that kiss the ground tonight melt away. Snowfall throughout the after hours shall cool down the earth and bring forth and ivory dawn. The streets, the cars, the roofs and the trees, all shall be clad in a snowy mask. When the fluffy flakes drifting down the sky transform into a relentlessly frigid blizzard, it is hard to comprehend. Beyond the snowflakes point, snowfall seems pretty only when within walls and under a roof.

The snow of today is the slush of tomorrow. Once the angelic descend seizes, the appreciation for the scenic beauty transforms into a smug on the faces. Walking through alternating patches of muddle-puddles of melted ice cold water and slippery patches of refrozen ice (which pose potential perils to one’s survival) make you swear between freezing breaths. The hues of the changing weather also bring about a modification in the moods. The white and gray bring along a gloom and dullness which spares none. Early morning blues, waking up rues, shower scare, all come along the package. Nevertheless, the first flakes of snow still endear me and lure me to the window. My jaws drop down and eyes become wider, no matter how many times I have perceived this pristine phenomenon.  

The white also brings along the crimson. Snow marks the beginning of the festival season in the West. The twinkle of the candles, the tinkering of bells, the hanging stars and the smell of warm wine, all together add to the festive mood. Much more worthwhile than the scenic beauty or the tropical fascination with snow is the change it brings along. The change which marks the end of a season and a new beginning, a new season.