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When it rains in Shimla it is grey, dull grey. When the rain stops and the clouds lift, hesitatingly, a thousand shades of green explode. And then the journey back in time. A bit of nostalgia, a sepia memory, a lingering smell, myriad shades of green, rain and more rain. The cold seeps into the bones. Fluffy clouds drift into windows, rubbing on the roads, holding the whole town to its in its claws, not wanting to give up. Chilly wind and slush…the long walk home.

And then the break of the sun, thousand shades of red and orange, life is great, we are happy….let us go out, to the lovely crisp evening, to the mall road. Toss a new discussion around coffee cups. Gaze a million stars. The merry go round of faces, pretty faces…Years have passed and I remember Shimla, a piece of heaven as it were.

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