Farewell to fall, salute to snow: Yalda and the advent of winter in Iran
The traveller may stop anytime but the road never really ends. If it does, then perhaps it was not a road in the first place, but a dead-end. From the fragile window of hope, nothing in life ever really comes to an end and the end of something is always the beginning of something else. Everything is in constant evolution, swaying from being to un-being, flickering from ‘yes’ to ‘no’ and then, lingering at the borders of ‘maybe’ and ‘I don’t know’ until a new cycle of certainty begins all over again. Perhaps, this is the core meaning of ...
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