I have not been able to experience the beauty of winters since 2007. I moved to Karachi for studies then commenced working here. Visiting home in summers has become a ritual now, but I haven't been able to experience the brumal months of Hunza again. When I reflect back to the chilly winter of my childhood, something exquisite and dazzling reminiscence strikes my mind as if it was all a dream, and now I have woken up in a different world, a messier one, a work of rush. I still recollect the memories of snowfall when my mother would excitedly wake us all up, telling us it is snowing outside. We would excitedly get up without making any fuss as we hear the word snow. We would rush out and be amazed at the sight of trees covered in a white veil of snow and the comeliness of snow-covered peaks. We would join the kids who have already gotten out to play and enjoy the happiest moment of the year. I remember my brothers and me setting up a cage for the snowbirds with the help of an apricot drying board made with salix sticks. We would call this game *Mucxcho* locally known as *shaq*. We would put a piece of wood in between the board and snow to make it a 50-degree angle and tie a rope to the stick, put some grains under it and wait for birds to come while hiding behind a tree. As a bird come under the basket, we would pull the rope, and catching the birds was a hobby of every child of my age. I remember when our PT teacher made us run around the school compound in the early morning. The tingling of cold air breathes, freezing hands yet still happy to run to feel warm was so joyous now I know how precious it was. The frozen clothes
hanging outside everyone's home on a sunny day, the sparkling streams, and the melting ice now feel like a fantasy. The days of outdoor classes at school on a warm day, sitting in a circle, studying, playing, sneaking out, careless about what life will bring and where it will take us in the far future seems life like it was all in a different world, a unique world.
Now, when I reflect on the deeper meaning of carefree days of
winters, its connection with life, and how others may feel when the season
begins, I have a different perspective. The chilling wind of early morning,
with its strokes on the soul, foreshadows difficult times ahead, while the
warmth of the sunlight, the arrival of spring, and days of delight. The snowy
peak gets ready to reserve the most crucial element of life, water. It depicts a hidden meaning, if you want the
best from your life, you must climb the peak of your life, and the priceless
reward awaits you at the end. After long tiring summer days, people take refuge
from the cold in winters in their houses. Enjoy delicious supper with their
beloveds, sitting around fireplaces, sipping tea, and relaxing, enjoying the
warmth of bonfires depict that we all must give everything a break and enjoy
life for ourselves. I feel a deep urge to think of those who are unaware of the
meaning of life, the now moments, and the life ahead. How do they recall the past or foresee the
future? What kind of thoughts do people get in their minds? How people
associate life with natural phenomena?
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