The snow of yesteryear has melted down,
But the wind still bears sharp edges,
And the dimly lit sun in the mid sky
Has wrapped the new born year with soft beams,
The evening starts to resonate
With the trotting of guests daring the cold,
And the table is laid with puffed pan cakes,
To be still savored and swallowed,
The hot tea from the sleek teapot has filled
The white cups up to their golden brims,
The mild aroma of aunt’s perfumed body by the table,
Still sends forth flying the flake of memory
From the closet of innocent years.
———- Dr. Fathema Begum
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