Coffee must have done it. I woke up at two in the morning and kept tossing and turning in my bed for the next three hours. Then it came to me, a rush of adrenaline followed. I put on another layer -- a scarf, a hat and my rubber slippers. Scaling down the five flights of stairs of my building took as long as a snap. Finally, it lay before me -- an entire field thickly covered with snow, waiting to be conquered by my bare feet. So I did it.

The next minute was the most exhilarating experience I ever had. I walked in a foot-deep field of snow. Actually I ran. All my senses were awake, the moon shone its brightest and the stars seemed to blink uncontrollably at the sight of me pirouetting in the snow. Ah what joy! Then reality bit -- I mean literally because by now, my entire feet are froze-bitten. I have to think fast… I run back to the edge of the field trying to figure out where I left my rubber slippers, which took forever. All I could think of by this time is hot water on my feet. Hot water… hot water… I know I was wearing my slippers but I didn't feel them, nor the cement stairs I was trying to climb. Ahhhhh! Ooooh, aaaaahhh! Numbness on my feet was only disturbed by shocking pain. Imagine pins and needles, ten thousand, thousand, thousand times.

Of course I recovered. But the three toes between my big toe and my pinky toe on both feet are still a bit tender. I wouldn't recommend it. But I wouldn't stop you from trying it. Its just one of those things you have to decide for yourself. What stands out from the entire experience though is the fact that with an increased capacity for joy comes an increased vulnerability to pain. Had I known I'd be froze-bitten for the next 30 minutes after a minute of gliding barefooted in the snow, would I still do it? Honestly, I'd say I have to think twice or thrice before doing it again. But the thing is life is just a series of gliding in the snow with one's bare feet. Constantly we make choices after choices after choices that would either keep us in the warmth and coziness of our bedrooms or out there in the freezing cold just so you can say, "I've cast my moon-shadow in the snow."

The same question stared at Him who was the Way, the Truth and Life. And some 2,000 years ago He who was Everlasting decided to be vulnerable, and graced this earth with His first coming. The story of the first Christmas cannot be divorced from the story of Easter, where He who was Love poured out Himself to death for us, the object of His love. He knew it will be more than painful, but He did it anyway.

Had I known staying here in this country will take years out of my life, consume my health in ways I didn't imagine, and just subject me to constant emotional hurt, would I still do it? If I knew three years ago what I know now, would I even decide to come? Tough one. I guess I have to say, if only to be able to say I walked barefooted in the snow, I'd do it. Again.