Seasons invoke memories; at least they do to me. Last Sunday, I was lazing around and reading the newspaper simultaneously; when I saw an elderly couple and with a toddler for company in the park beside my quarter, basking in the delicate sunshine. At that time memories of the winters gone by flooded me. When the North Pole starts its tilt away from the sun on equinox and winter sets in, it feels good to have the sun for company. In childhood, winter was a mix of pleasure and pain. In the morning, any effort to wake up from the comfort of blankets was subdued by the fear of chilled air. It would take many agitated cry from my mother to finally make me get out of bed. Straight after getting ready, I would run with the mat and the school bag to the open courtyard beside our house (actually a field where rice grain is separated from straw, “ khala ” in local dialect). A sweet spot would be chosen so that earth’s rotation around the sun wouldn’t make shadows of the surrounding...
Transcript of my interaction with my happiness, sorrows, success, failure and everything else.