Srinagar, Sept. 14 -- Wearing the mourning cloak, shedding bloody tears, face emanating piercing pain, shoulders leaning down due to being overburdened with endless sorrows and standing before me like a death angel (who steals away the people whom one loves more than one loves himself), September , a month that is the whole year because it passes so slowly that I am made feel it's every moment, a month that blurred the difference of spring and summer and converted every season into autumn when ripest fruits fall first, arrives each year to revive the wound by scratching it to bleed that never healed. It will never heal, for Septembers keep returning vivifying and killing my dad simultaneously and continuously ,and I must live through them...