….The days get colder, the nights longer, as the year counts its final breaths. December, the receptacle of the leftovers of unrealised dreams, the harbinger of hopes and guilty wishes. The summer has finally bid goodbye but lurks around the corners of misty mornings and exhausted evenings….

 ….The careless way the snow fills the overheads of houses and trees and the chill drapes the walls and leaves remind of the prolonged spells that are once again prominent, colouring the faded memories with bygone anxieties. Much felt and said matter not, not when the year rolls by like the wheels of a cart, slow, steady, poignant….

Asha Seth