WRITE-UPS

Lying here, in the corner of this street, next to the busy road, I have seen harsh winter freezing the water pipes, icicles hanging from tree tops, children laughing at each other when they stumble while trying to balance themselves on the frozen ice that covers the roads, and in spring, the town looks like an artist's colour palette,  with orange, peachy- pink and white flowers and greenery all around, the fresh sunshine melts all the ice and the mountains are set free of the hard ice that had covered them for months. In the autumn nights, the street lights brighten up the crimson, golden and rust colored chinar leaves and make them look like they're on fire. Women sing folk songs on weddings, baandhs dance on the streets. In Ramadhan, the sahar khwaan beats his drum for pre-dawn calls. A...