And then it snowed!

Coming from India, growing up in the tropics, I always fantasized snow. And Bollywood played a major role in misshaping my fantasies about snow. The beautiful snow capped Swiss valleys in the lovezy-schmaltzy laden Yashraj movies impressed indelibly on my mind as a child that snow is pure and romantic. That when you feel love, you run to the snow covered Swiss Albis mountain range, where your love is so strong that you do not even feel the freezing sub zero chill in a skimpy saree. And you sing beautiful romantic numbers. Love conquers it all.

This belief of mine held true for 27 long years of my life. Snow is beautiful, snow is romantic.

And then I landed in New York City.

Today having lived in NYC for more than 9 months, and having seen the reality, I beg to differ.

Today was the first snowfall of 2007.

I woke up and began checking my mails. A while later Mario woke up and looked outside the window, and he exclaimed 'Hey! Its snowing!' I rushed to the window to see beautiful fragments of white fluff flowing in the air and settling ever so gently on the streets outside my house. They had formed a white layer on the cars parked on the streets. The Superintendents of the residential buildings around were busy blowing up the snow and cleaning the streets outside the apartments to ease the movement of people on the streets.

'It's beautiful...Oh! I love the snow', said Mario.

'It's your first snow here', I told him. 'Twice, thrice more and I am sure you will change your mind'.

I was sure of that. It snowed the very second day I landed in the US, and looking outside the house, I could just think that it was extremely beautiful. And then I began to commute to places in the snow and all the beauty, grace, fun and romance that I had associated with the snow, just evaporated into thin air.

NYC where I have lived for some time now has four distinct seasons, so snow will always be a part of my NYC life as long as I am here. I certainly enjoy that first fall of heavy, thick flakes. The sky is dusky and a hush comes over the world. Before the plows come to make it mucky slush, before the dogs stain it yellow and the school kids ruin your backyard with footprints, snow is a lovely experience. Then comes the endless shoveling of driveways and brushing off of cars, followed by the patches of black ice hidden under deceptive white fluff. Ugh. This happened twice, and I’m over snow now.

And it's so cold that you have to wrap yourself up in layers and layers of clothing. All those additional layers are so inconvenient that you feel like a tight sack and your body movements feel so restricted that you avoid trying to bend down to tie the show lace which came off. And then you walk some and you trip some and end up embarassing yourself.

And you cannot wear anything else other than your winter snow boots outside. God forbid, if you do, and unnoticingly stamp into a pool of slush, you will be pulled down by your soggy shoes all day. And then you also have to handle those smelly wet socks. And pray also, if you do, that you do not slip and fall. Coz if you do and make a fool of yourself in front of strangers, it's still bearable. What's more dangerous is the propensity for a slip like that to cause physical damage.

Now having seen the best of both worlds, I feel that Snow in NYC is just similar to Rains in Mumbai. Stay home with your cuppa masala chai and some freshly deep fried hot onion pakoras, with a wonderful book in hand, and lounge on your balcony and have a view outside of the Mumbai rains. It's great. That's when it feels perfect to hum your lovely old school Bollywood romanticisms. Those very same tunes which were shot in the picture perfect snow covered Swiss Albis ranges.