The secret to a perfect daal now is to sprinkle stardust,  admix soul breath to a blend of spices, mix gently.

sunshine lazes

On silver mane

Winter morning

 Unseasonal rains again. 

The banyan tree has fruited.

The badam sprang to life with new flowers. The panchang, almanac, has an extra month but they didn't get the memo.

Rain drizzles, manna from the heavens. Like a prayer, answered.

2020. Anything can happen.

Something I was waiting for very keenly, didn't happen. At the back of my mind I knew the work was good, but not good enough, not great, and it may have used a few more tweaks and turns.
So why am I upset at the result? Perhaps I miss that "soaking in the pit of morose sentimentality".
Amusing, all.