It first arrives as a feeling. I somehow know that the weather has drifted. There is a nip in the air, and the sun seems suddenly tired after all its summer burning. Once fierce and relentless, it now bathes the world in warm, golden light. A gentle breeze surrounds me, urging me to drop everything momentarily and notice that the ephemeral summer has ended. It gently whispers that another phase is on the threshold. It brings cleaner and fresher air, sometimes carrying the faint scent of burning autumn leaves. This zephyr is just cold enough to make my senses tingle, but not enough to make me shiver. This is my favourite kind of cold, something so wonderfully unique to Kashmir.

The full wrath of winter is still at bay. The trees are still holding on, transformed into a festival of colours. Every leaf is a flower,........

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