winter is an odd season in many of ways.... its silent. summer, monsoon, spring, autumn... they're boisterous. winter comes slowly. you hold autumn's hand... and then suddenly its not autumn any more... its winter. autumn is never a season proper out here anyway; though spring is, or at least was till a couple of years ago... anyway, autumn is just a fleeting touch before the the biting wind drives home the point. and then you learn to live with winter all over again, with its mood swings, its beauty and its cruelty....
...and then you wake up one morning and see the sun shining a bit brighter than usual. and the wind bites a little less. the breeze against your face feels nice. and you can hold that elusive patch of sunlight between your fingers once more. slowly, unknowingly, when you were least expecting it, right at that moment when you were looking in the other direction, winter walked away.
i've been noticing winter leave every year for quite sometime now. learnt not to look away this time of the year. always remembered that last touch as winter's hands let go of mine. i never get along well with winter. its the season i like the least. but somehow right before i start rejoicing at the coming of spring, for one tiny moment before winter lets go...when i feel our fingers brush for one last time, i feel an indescribable melancholy inside...which is strange, since no other season makes me feel this way.
wish there would be somebody to explain exactly what this feeling is...
but i know this one thing. if i ever walk away... this is how it'll be. when nobody's expecting it. when everybody is busy looking away. no goodbye is sometimes the best goodbye.
