The winter might be wreaking havoc up north and in the West; I too experienced its bite when Shor Bazaar went up to Gulmarg to perform for the New Year's bash arranged by the J&K government to usher in the decade of snow tourism, but the hell-freeze capturing my mind seems to be thawing. It's interesting to note that the pure whiteness and sheer beauty of the virgin snow up on the slopes exists almost symbiotically with the unyielding bitterness of the cold. When I was up there, I wished if my mind were wiped clean off all what's done and those not won, of all the pain and those not gained, of all what's lost and those who caused.
I have survived once more, almost by a miracle thanks to the one and only soul who stood by me all along, albeit half the world away, the two women who took care of me gastronomically, a set of seven musicians in two bands who were generous enough to bear with my thymic chorea (out for which two, you and you, who have helped me the most), and a generous set of friends who have reached out with their heart more than once, so touchingly, and finally, a wonderful set of colleagues who have adjusted to me like how glove adjusts to a surgeon's hand. I must not forget to thank my shrink (Dear. R) who prescribed an SSRI, an anxiolytic, and anantipschyotic that are making me stay mellow and warm.
This year has begun wonderfully well. I have renewed hope. I truly hope that I have turned the biggest corner of my life and am running away from the past! For all of who who have helped me, thank you! I wish you a wonderful and happy new year!
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