The Chinars in the month of November are the most exquisite shades of gold and pastel across the whole valley of Kashmir. A mere glance at the surroundings fills the heart of an average person with all shades of happiness and bliss. However, there is a duality of literal and metaphoric that ties and dyes the soul of every person born in and living in the region. The autumn sun shines dimly on the dangling leaves and the fallen ones. A dash of dryness around the edges of these leaves tends to weave a unique delicate carpet around the radius of the tree. The brooks nearby recede in the flow of water day by day, quite similar to the dwindling hope at the very brink of winter.