The Himalayan winter is a golden shade of orange and tastes like a tangy lemon. The fleeting days are characterised by warm sunlight illuminating parched brown mountains interspersed with towering silken white peaks glowing under fresh snow. Snow and sunshine struggle against each other and satiate azure passive rivers snaking through bustling towns gearing up for fairs and festivals.
The meagre daylight hours are spent on rooftops and verandahs soaking in elusive warmth, while cold silent nights are suffered in cosy rooms huddled under a razai. In the hills of Uttarakhand, winter is the season of festivities as hill folk unwind after the gruelling monsoon and autumn months—the Rabi crops have been sown, shepherds have returned with their flock from the higher grasslands, fodder and grains have been stocked for the winter.
It is a time of song, dance and rejuvenation as the human spirit battles against the very nature it embodies even as cold arrives on icy chariots galloping from the belly of Himalayas.
On a typical winter morning, Almora is an island jutting from a sea of milky fog, known as haul in the local Kumaoni tongue.
Perched on a ridge above the jagged valley of the Kosi river facing the imposing Trisul massif, Almora isn’t your quintessential Himalayan hill-station as its history predates the arrival of British.
The colonial hangover apparent in popular destinations of the Himalayas is conspicuously absent as the capital city of Chand Kings retains its unique cultural identity. The decaying fort walls narrate tales of grandeur and destruction, of the golden rule of Chands and the cruelty of Gorkhas. The legacy of British that remained in a few government buildings, schools and colleges and a church has seamlessly been reabsorbed into the local culture.
A display of this vibrant indigenous culture as autumn deceptively cedes ground to the winter chill is the enactment of Ramayana, Ramlila, leading up to Dussehra; it has been recognised by UNESCO as one of the most representative Ramlilas along with places like Ayodhya, Varanasi, Vrindavan and Madhubani.
Almora also boasts of peculiar Dussehra celebrations where effigies of all villains of the epic are paraded across the bazaars and set ablaze amid much fanfare. The bustling bazaars of the town—Lala, Karkhana, Malli, Johari and Paltan—that are crowded throughout the year bear a deserted look on cold winter evenings.
However, the narrow lanes branching from these markets often ring with the rhythm of a harmonium and dholak complemented by enthusiastic singers honing their sound boxes for Holi celebrations.
The spectacular colours of a winter sunset are replicated in the culinary treats available during the colder months. Pulses like black lentil, black gram, horse gram, black and white soyabean, rajma accompanied with green leafy vegetables and myriad chutneys are staple foods effective against the biting cold.
Chapatis of Mandua (finger millet seeds) and buckwheat are relished with ghee and jaggery. To add a sweet touch gajar ka halwa is much preferred apart from jhangora (barnyard millet) kheer and sweetmeats prepared from semolina and curd known as pua and singal.
These home-made dishes are savoured with a couple of specialities claimed by Almora—Bal Mithai (brown chocolate like fudge made from khoya and coated with sugar balls) and Singodi (flavoured khoya wrapped in oak leaves).
Winter months are also perfect for short hikes in the pine jungles around Almora—the temple at Chitai, around 9 km from the town and the abode of Golu devta, is one such walking endeavour. Goljyu is the local deity of justice and presides over matters ranging from personal enmities to property disputes. His temple is adorned with thousands of bells and grievances written on stamp paper—if justice is served then the complainant offers a bell and withdraws his appeal from the precincts.
The thick forests around Almora and the Himalayas have attracted many religious, spiritual and modern seekers over centuries, Swami Vivekananda being one of them. During the peak of the hippie culture, Crank’s Ridge near the town was a favourite haunt of backpackers from around the world. Today, it is not uncommon to find a meditating yogi in the dense jungles surrounding the ancient shrine of Kasar Devi.
A Himalayan winter is bleak and depressing without the melodies and dance these mountains inspire as the culture and traditions of hill folk infuse life into desolate snowy peaks. When the sound of bagpipes and dhol resonates in the river valleys and steep ridges, the harshness of Himalayas is forgotten. And even when grey ominous clouds come knocking ready to paint the landscape white, you mustn’t be rattled for you can always treat yourself to freshly fallen snow and jaggery, and hope for the warmth to return again.