Drive down any highway in North India during February, and you will understand why poets like Kalidasa wrote volumes about this season. The mustard fields of Punjab, Haryana, and Rajasthan are in full bloom. It looks as if a golden carpet has been draped over the earth. In the hills of Uttarakhand and Himachal Pradesh, the rhododendrons ( Buransh ) burst open, turning entire forest slopes red.
Because Spring in India isn't a season. It is a reminder that no matter how cold the winter, the colors always come back. spring season india
So, if you are in India this time of year, don't stay inside. Step out. Buy a bunch of fresh coriander from a street vendor. Listen for the cuckoo. Let a stranger throw a handful of gulal (colored powder) on your shoulders. Drive down any highway in North India during
Winter is quiet; animals huddle for warmth. But spring is a symphony. The Koel (cuckoo), which inspired a thousand Bollywood songs, returns. Its distinctive, almost haunting "Kuhu... Kuhu" echoes through the mango groves. It is the official soundtrack of the season. In the hills of Uttarakhand and Himachal Pradesh,
While the main trek opens later, the lower reaches of the Himalayas in spring are surreal. The snow is melting, creating roaring waterfalls, and the first wildflowers are peeking through.
Down south, the neem trees (known for their medicinal bitterness) suddenly sprout tender, violet-green leaves that look like lace against the blue sky.
Visit the Sun Temple during the Navratri of spring (Chaitra Navratri). The stepwells are full, the weather is pleasant, and the Garba dances under the stars are electrifying. A Note on the "Spring Fever" In Ayurveda, spring is known as Kapha season. As the snow melts and the earth becomes moist, our bodies also release accumulated winter lethargy. You might feel a little sluggish or get the sniffles (seasonal allergies are real, thanks to the flowering trees). The remedy? Honey (the oldest medicine) and light, spicy food. It is nature’s way of doing a deep clean before summer. The Ephemeral Magic The tragedy of spring in India is its brevity. By the first week of April, the mango flowers have fallen, the mustard fields are harvested, and the Koel goes quiet, exhausted from singing. The dust storms of April roll in, signaling the start of summer.