Winter

When in sixth grade

In the middle of a school fete

On a crisp December morning

I told my plump teacher of Math

That I would miss class for a week or more

Flowers in her hair, and brows squeezed 

She asked what was I upto

We were going up to the Himalayas 

Yes, in winter

Brows immediately apart

She asked me to have some fun, please

For hundreds of miles

In a bus with nausea as a co-passenger

Families with kids, old folks 

The single and unattached

And people of all other kinds

Packed with our bags and suitcases 

Embarked on a journey north ward 

Sometime around Christmas

When the twelve year old me

Woke up in the morning 

I saw snow capped mountains 

I, literally I had never seen snow

Several mountain ranges away

But snow, nevertheless 

My eyes were awed

And I felt completely woke

I rolled down the window

A chill caught my cheek

And I felt my mellow unviolated skin

Crack in the cold

That honey, was the first feel of winter