It’s winter arriving. It is the season of snuggling into the blanket for little too long, of holding the cup of coffee a little too dearly, of hugging your jacket a little too close. It is a season of ‘little too much’. It is the season we go for a walk on the snow clad roads, with flakes of heaven coming down on us. The street lights our spotlights and the pines our audience. We pry on the land with this unknown familiarity. For we know that it never is same in the day and night. We know that skaters envy us in the day; we know that when night falls our show is over. So here, let us play for the audience we love, the dance of eternal bliss. A thousand days from now, a thousand miles away, we will long to be here, to dance one last time, coz love has it that heaven may be, but long we will for you my love.
And there we go hand in hand, knowing in the mornings we conquer the land. Knowing whenever we look back at life, this will be the show we will miss of all times.
Dedicated to the ‘I-can’t express’ time of my life spent in Gulmarg.
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