Bidikshan Soni

Of the smile she wore like a quiet promise, even as the pain grew stronger. Of her eyes—softer than snowfall, kinder than anything I have ever known. But, winter does not bring my mother back.

Evenings are wrapped in a strange, inexplicable nostalgia, and I surrender to it, unable to resist. Ah, the evenings! How they torment me with their quiet cruelty.

In every painting, he placed them at the edge of the canvas, just like his master, Vincent Van Gogh. After reading that cypress trees symbolize eternity, he began to see her eyes within them, adoring them even more.