Having spent my entire years in the polluted urban, i've lost count of all allergies i have been through. Some massive one, and the others- relatively mild. The tormenting dust, the obnoxious vehicle horn and millions of people. Just!

All of this has been the cause for my longing of a countryside journey. To any peaceful, serene-tic place with slow paced life. The craving seldom substantiates but this very fine day, it did. We embarked on a journey. We, a group of 11 on a short lived journey of a day- A much anticipated city escape!

Cheerful , bitter and ecstatic.

And some, one of a kind- indescribable. 

This is exactly what i feel about the current weather. If i were to term my feeling , i am bound to fail.For, i don't know what you term the feeling i go through. Or perhaps, it's not a feeling at all, but just a reminiscence.

The weather used to be as just how it is today. Years ago.

The thickness of the blanket that i use to wrap my body at night  gradually decreased as the icy cold temperature of the night  peaked up. I had a habit of covering my face as i sleep. I still do. As the brightness of the morning no longer allowed me to sleep, and after failing attempts to sleep after covering my face, i would finally decide to wake up. I would remove the blanket, reach out my hands to the white curtains hanged on the green wall and side them. And the sun rays would strike on my face, the mild warm rays with the perfect intensity.Nothing has changed . Except, the white curtains have been replaced by the patterned brown ones and the green walls have turned into cream.

I walk down the lane, and the trees on the side feel the same. Almost how it felt years back. The same when we had to assemble prior to the school hours beneath the crystal clear sky. The lemony green new leaves in the apricot trees within the premises that i constantly gazed at, and the dreamy days.And the days after the final term. Reliefs and post exam vacation.The remembrances don't have definitive pattern, nor they do have any meaning. Just  the frame of some periods in my mind,
And still, every year this weather arrives, it strikes me. This weather, Spring.
Now, and then.
Flashbacks and reminiscence.