Handknit Beanies Cap ~ 9

On a winter afternoon in the Himalayas, whether it is the foothills of Uttarakhand or the sublime vallies in the mighty ranges of Ladakh or Nepal, a typical courtyard scene comprises of grandmothers and mothers either fending the freshly reared wool, spinning it and weaving or knitting the spun-yarn with a pair of knitting needles twitching and tussling with the never ending woolen trail.... with colorful balls of wool running all around. An atmosphere brewing with hot tea and flavored chit-chat is just conducive to put babies to sleep in the warm laps of mothers... mothers, the strange beings who radiate care through each and every gesture, irrespective of cast, class or social status. The warmth of their lap, the sweet conversations affirming their presence, the hands that knit unstoppably some of our most treasured childhood wears, the baggy sweater that covered you till knees, the socks with pink lace, caps with tassels on either sides... to keep you covered in the warmth of her lap where ever you go... she also decorates these with vivid colored flowers blooming in your garden, where you used to play as kids - pink, blue, yellow, purple, red... all shining bright in the grey of the fierce Himalayan winters!