my first memories of snow could have been directed by Guru Dutt himself...my dad standing in a door frame looking out at the snow drifting down , the earthy colours of the khaddar shawl over his shoulders picked up by the brown of the charpoy left out in the in the courtyard. I was less than three at the time but could understand that I was intruding on a very private moment as he stood there, my `obsessive compulsive disorder` might also have started kicking in as I was getting very flustered with the charpoy being left out.
We are in Berlin this week and yesterday the snow started coming down...I didnt want Arhaan to wake up as Im selfish in some ways..I want desi snow memories for him not this.
But then he will never have Punjabi neighbours who made small dolls from snow as you would of flour for me and then drew big big Cleopatra eyes with a pen.
He will never understand snow means Mall Road in Murree and honey mooning couples , ice cream cones and women in silk tottering on high heels, agar may mar gayee tau (seriously why so morbid on a honey moon?) and achey say hotel may ek cup coffee.
There will be no more Mumtaz and Rajesh Khanna `karvatey badaltey last night`in snow
and Messrs Yash Chopra might have long retired the chiffon sari.
So I woke him up from his afternoon nap and he went cross eyed looking out at it from the window, and as I type its early morning and his father has hoisted him on his shoulder and arhaan knows he is supposed to look out at something but what? and Gman is asking me so what do I do, I have to get back to my presentation
and I realize that Arhaan has to make his own memories and unless Guru Dutt is around really cant have a retrospective of mine...