Jar of Snow

The delicate flakes of snow fell one after another on Pakhi’s palm. It vanished upon coming in contact with the warmth of her skin leaving behind a smudge of dampness. But then it increased. A few more flakes like little wisps of cotton crowded her fingers and the palm and soon her hand felt wet and cold. Then came the numbness. It felt good in the beginning as it  travelled from the tip of her finger, all the way through her arm and seeped into the depth of her heart numbing all her feelings. Yet, a drop of tear slid down her cheek.

After a while, her fingers started hurting and she was unable to move them. Before they threatened to freeze and turn into ice, she came back to her senses. Pakhi jerked the snow away and pulled her outstretched hand inside and closed the window. She slid her hand in the pocket of her sweater and the instant warmth made them tingle and with it, a fresh burst of tears oozed out of her eyes. She felt lonely… so lonely.

Pakhi’s mind wandered to the memories of the past. It was her home back in India. An old two-storied building of peeling yellow paint where her whole family lived together. The house looked ramshackled but the love among the people living in the house was strong as ever. She lived with her parents, her uncle’s family and her dear grandfather.

It was the month of December. The winters in her hometown were different in comparison to the harsh and freezing winters where she lived right now in the US. The days were cold but when the skies were clear, the warmth of the sun could beat all winter blues in the afternoon. December was a month of joy for the kids. The schools were closed and the days were spent relaxing out in the sun on the terrace on wooden charpoys or straw mats. In the afternoons after lunch, almost the whole family could be seen out on the terrace. Pakhi’s mother and aunt would be busy drying pickles or papads in the sun and chatting away. They would pile up the quilts under the sun so that they get extra warm and cosy at night. Pakhi’s father and uncle usually would be out working at this time but joined the gang on office holidays.

Pakhi’s grandfather, whom she called ‘Dadu’ loved to soak in the warmth of the sun all day rocking back and forth in his wooden chair with a newspaper in his hands. When he dozed off, Pakhi and her cousins would poke at his newspaper, waking him up with a jolt. That would annoy him no end but he never scolded the kids. He loved their company and they loved him. Pakhi was the naughtiest of all but being the youngest one, she was Dadu’s favourite.

Little Pakhi loved to sit on Dadu’s lap and listen to his stories. Both would watch flocks of birds fly across the powder blue sky making a cawing sound.

“Look at those birds Pakhi! They have crossed seven seas to come and visit our land. One day you will fly like these migratory birds and go to a fascinating faraway land!”

“Dadu, have you ever been to that land?” Pakhi would ask, widening her eyes in astonishment.

“No Pakhi… I haven’t gone out much except a few trips to Kolkata to get books for the library… I have only read about them in books.” 

Dadu used to be the school’s librarian all his life.

“I also love books,” Pakhi replied.

“You’re just like me Pakhi… but I want you to do what I never did… You have to go to this land which is covered with beautiful sparkling snow!”

“Dadu, will you come with me?”

“Hehe… Dadu is getting older day by day, Pakhi… I don’t know if I can come with you”

“Ok no problem, when I go there, I will bring a jar full of that sparkling white snow for you”

“Oh, I will be so happy! I will wait for that day!” Dadu would chuckle.

The kids grew up and moved out of the house. Pakhi’s parents and uncle’s family also moved out chasing other employment opportunities. Dadu continued living in the same house surrounded by his beloved books as his companion and a servant to take care of him. He refused to move anywhere with anyone.

This morning Pakhi’s mother called to say that Dadu was on his deathbed. But it’s ok if she is unable to travel from the US at such short notice. He had lived a long fulfilling life and his blessings will always be with her nonetheless. 

Pakhi’s mother’s words on the phone stirred something so hard inside the pit of her stomach that she had to sit down to prevent herself from falling. It hit her hard all at once. Why did she never go and meet him in the past years? Why did it never occur to her to call him? Why did she take this relationship for granted? Why was she thinking all of this now when there is no way that she can talk to him anymore?

Pakhi realised that although Dadu had termed her his favourite grandkid but truth be told she had failed to live up to it. When she was a kid, she clinged to him all the time but as she grew up and got busy with her studies and career, she lost touch with him. Each day was a hustle to fulfil more ambitions and climb the ladder of success one after another. With time they grew apart and Dadu became a forgotten chapter of her life.

Pakhi had travelled to the US for studies and bagged an excellent job too. She was doing wonders in her life. As Dadu had predicted, Pakhi did cross the seven seas like a migratory bird. But little did she realise that in the midst of it all, the distance between her and Dadu had become more than the seven seas of the world. 

The snowfall had started with full vigour now. A thin sheet of white had covered the dry brown grass of her backyard. Snow clinged to the branches of the pine trees. Few snowflakes bumped into the glass window and turned to water. 

Pakhi wiped away her tears and rushed to the kitchen. She emptied a glass jar, washed it with soap and water and dried it. The snow was falling in a nice rhythm. She wore her coat, boots and gloves and opened the front door. The cold burst of chilling icy breeze greeted her. She walked to her backyard and grabbed a handful of fresh and fluffy snow. She filled the glass jar with it and closed it tight shut. She rushed back to her home and placed that glass jar in the freezer among the frozen peas and ice creams. She was shivering all over, less due to cold and more due to her emotional upheaval. But this seemingly childish act calmed her down. 

Pakhi had no idea what she would do with the jar full of snow, but now the fog clouding her mind had lifted. She knew her next course of action. She took her phone and booked her tickets to India and then she sent a message to her mother.

“I’m coming home Ma. I hope Dadu waits for me…” 

A smile of satisfaction lit her face. 

As a migratory bird flies beyond seven seas but comes back home using the stars, the sun and earth’s magnetism to help them find their way back, for humans, it’s the emotions in their heart which pulls them back to their roots so that they get rejuvenated and fly and explore the world again.  After all, certain promises need to be fulfilled.

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