Farewell to Spring

Depending on who you ask, North India experiences no fewer than five seasons and possibly as many as six. If we go with five (sorry pre-winter) that leaves winter, spring, summer, monsoon, and autumn. From all I've heard, winter in Delhi is particularly rough due to toxic pollution, cold-ish temps, and domestic infrastructure that is not designed for the cold. I know I complained about the January postponement, but in climatological terms it did me a huge favor. I missed winter entirely and arrived at the peak of spring, one of the most idyllic times of year in North India without question.

Now if you do the math, making room for that fifth season in a twelve-month calendar requires a bit of reallocation at the expense of the four-season cycle those of us from the global northwest find normal and natural. Alas, spring is first on the chopping block. According to delhitourism.gov.in, spring--which the website describes as "sunny and pleasant" with average temps ranging from 20-25 Celsius (68-77 F)-- begins in February and lasts through March. Summer--described merely as "hot," with average temps ranging from 25-45 C (77 to 113F)--begins in April and lasts through June. Then the sweet relief of monsoon, as the heat and humidity give way to daily rains and cooling temperatures: the stuff of romantic fantasies and Bollywood movie magic.

With all due respect to the Delhi bureau of tourism and their knowledgeable statisticians, the weather app on my iPhone suggests summer will begin next week. My knowledge of the climate in this part of the world is admittedly spotty, but all signs point to steadily increasing temps as we move into April and May. The frontal systems that create dramatic spring swings throughout the eastern United States are simply not a factor here. Once it gets hot, it stays hot.

For the grand finale of my spring tourism, before the oppressive heat moves in and my research kicks into a higher gear, I plan to head to Agra tomorrow morning to finally see the Taj Mahal. In 2017, I avoided Agra like the plague. Most reports from my itinerant classmates portrayed it as cesspool of heat, frustrated tourists, and predatory vendors. Rajasthan had its share of iconic tourist destinations, and heat, so I willfully abstained. 

My reliable rickshaw-wala and friend, Rakesh, has hired a car and a guide for tomorrow and will tag along for company. I'm hoping a Thursday in early March, during a waning pandemic, will be less overwhelming than the picture my classmates painted of their summer visits to Agra five years ago. Regardless, it's something I need to see at least once in my travels around the subcontinent. Or so they say.