Up and Down by Divya Durgadas
- Sep 7
- 3 min read
Updated: 3 days ago
If you close your eyes and listen to snow falling, you will hear a crinkling softness, almost like
the sound of burning wood. If not for your other senses, it is uncanny how you can mistake one for the other. That is what Maya heard too when she closed her eyes, on a slow moving ski lift. She was warm in layers of thermal gear, a hug against the cold. Her legs ached under the weight of her boots and skis. "One more," she whispered under her breath before descending on the landing; there were mountains to conquer at the drop off.
The summit above the clouds was humbling; the hilly silhouettes afar a white hue in the snow. And miles of what looked like milky rivers. Once at the mountain top, the only way back was downhill. A mix of nerves and exhilaration overcame Maya; she swashbuckled towards a slope that looked like a bottomless pit at eye level. As she grasped the camber of the slope, dropping her knees drawing S shapes skillfully with her skis, she began to relax. Her skis moved in rapt unison like one pedaling a bicycle or a swimmer making laps. The falling snow was now a meditative hum, matching the swooshes of her ski edges. In and out. Out and In.
The snowy bed under her wasn't always so calming when she was a beginner. The fear of
keeling over face down happened countless times. A broken rib, frozen toes, sliding on her butt, crying for help, she had done it all. She reminded herself that she had not given up. She would fall, ask for help and relearn. And it was not always easy to restart from the unknown. The very slope that felt magical now, was a minefield on a windy icy day.
As the bottom of the hills came into view on the horizon, Maya savored the final twists and
turns, a gentle ache, a tight holding on before letting go. Just like her marriage.
The fanfare of beginnings, cacophonies of an extravagant wedding with horse carriages and
elephants. She nearly tripped imagining an "elephant in the snow" and laughed out loud. The steepness of their relationship downslope, however, neither could handle with aplomb. Taking on multiple tumbles, crashes and injuries like a ski beginner, she had learnt that love is a verb, an action, not a sustainable feeling. The only way was to get up. To learn. To fail. And try again.
She let the last leg of the slope consume her. The end wasn't dramatic like she had imagined. There was no crescendo from shattering hearts or theatric tears. Only silent acceptances and echoes in the wind like the falling snow around her and a smooth landing, as she turned her skis to a composed stop. She smiled pleased, breathed softly and made her way to the lift to go back up. Again.
Author's Note:
I have lived on the east coast of the US for 20 years. I love the change of seasons and the emotions they bring. Learning to ski in the harsh winters of the northeast, started off as a way to stay active in the cold, but ended up being a therapeutic journey of self discovery and believing in myself. The story is inspired by the same! I start my day with a cup of coffee, journaling and meditation. Early mornings for self like these, bring me joy and set my tone for the rest of the day.
Divya (she/her) is a software engineer by profession, a potterhead, and an avid lover of books. When she is not reading or listening to an audio book, you can find her finishing drafts and publishing blog posts here ( ddurgadas.wordpress.com ), or writing little anecdotes on her instagram page. (@scarlettinted ).
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