I hate winters. But somehow I love snow, thanks to “Harry Potter and the depiction of snow in the Hogsmeade”. But the irony is, I had never seen snow before. Not the kind you see in movies or Instagram reels—soft, white, untouched and unreal. I mean real snow! Cold enough to burn your fingers but soft enough to disappear under your boots. And that’s the only reason that the dreamy snowlover in me decided to travel all the way to Lansdowne in Uttarakhand from Delhi recently. It was peak winter and the forecast promised snowfall. That’s when my soul whispered: this is it. If I didn’t go now, I might never get to see the white beauty. After battling hours of traffic jams, car honks, and vomiting, I finally reached. The town looked like it had paused mid-breath. And I was like, “ya, the sight is actually worth all the pain”!Snow rested gently on rooftops, some clung to tree branches just like I had seen in the movies. The roads were also covered in a soft white blanket. The endless valleys, layered in white and grey, fading into mist. The tin of the houses buried deep under snow looked smaller. Every step I was taking was making a crunching sound. There I stood still. Took a deep breath as coming from Delhi’s pollution, this was my moment to fill my lungs with clean, unpolluted air. It was an overwhelming moment.It was magic.It was pure.It was love at first sight.It was like I was in Hogwarts enjoying winters.It was everything I had imagined.And then I saw a bottle.
PC: Priya Srivastava/TOI
At first, I thought it would be snow in the shape of a bottle. But no, it wasn’t. It was a green and white glass bottle poking out of the snow. Somebody took their time to bury it close to the roadside walking path. I walked closer and saw it was a bottle of alcohol, half buried, frozen into the snow like it was its home.I looked around, there were little kids with families. My heart sank. Then I noticed another bottle, not far from it. And then I couldn’t stop seeing them. Beer bottles. Some dug deep into the snow, some tossed carelessly.But the doers didn’t realise that snow doesn’t erase bad behaviour. It only hides it for some time.That’s when I saw a little boy. He must have been eight or nine, all bundled up in a jacket too big for him, heavy gloves clinging to his small but strong hands. I saw him sitting across the road. The little boy was trying to pull something out with all his strength. His parents were also there, trying to help him while watching carefully.I walked closer. It was a dark brown coloured beer bottle, stuck solid in the snow. He, with the help of his father, was successful in removing the bottle. The boy looked up at anyone who passed by and said, “Let’s remove all these glass bottles. It’s bad. We can’t play in the snow because of these bottles. Someone might get hurt.”The irony! Kids are paying for adults’ misbehavior. Here was a child who had come all the way up in the hope of playing with snow, to build a snowman and instead, he was trying to clean up some adult’s mess.I felt ashamed for us.Soon, it became a quiet collective effort. Two-three youngsters joined in. Other snow lovers, photographers, travellers like me also paused, bent down, and one by one, we managed to move more bottles out.Six.Seven.More. I did not count.When we were done, the snow looked better and safe. It was just a small patch of snow. There was snow all over. And I was imagining how many more bottles the snow hides. Meanwhile, the boy smiled and ran off and started his game of making a snowman with his family.
PC: Priya Srivastava/TOI
Later that night, while scrolling through Instagram, I saw several reels and pictures from snowy destinations where people had spat paan and gutkha and liquor bottles. They don’t realise that snow is not our dustbin. Mountains are not the places where responsibility goes on vacation.We’ve somehow made “zero civic sense” a trend. But maybe it’s time we make bringing civic sense back a trend instead. If a little kid can understand that glass doesn’t belong in the snow, why can’t we?While Lansdowne gave me my first snowfall experience, it also gave me a lesson I didn’t expect. As travellers, we say “leave only footprints.” But maybe it’s time we actually mean it.Let’s stop hiding our mess under snow, sand, or sea.Let’s follow, “civic sense is cool”, a trend worth following.Disclaimer: The above account is based on the author’s personal experience, and The Times of India does not endorse or verify these views.