march doesn’t enter. it drifts in.
like a filmi hero in slow motion, scarf flying,
background में violins थोड़ा out of tune.

feb was tidy. 28 days. no drama.
calendar behaving like a disciplined intern.
and then it exits. polite. no crumbs.

but march? march is mood.

east coast की winter अभी भी ज़िद्दी है.
हवा ठंडी, skies grey, sun playing hide and seek like it owes rent.
coats still hanging by the door, boots refusing retirement.
but under that frost, something is rehearsing.
stretching its arms.

because march carries contrast.

ramzan ki आहट. dates soaking. kitchens planning quiet generosity.
hearts slowing down a notch, making space for intention.
fasting isn’t just about hunger — it’s about clarity.
like decluttering the soul. minimalism, but spiritual.

and then holi.
color rebellion. गुलाल in the air like confetti thrown by the universe.
winter whites attacked by pinks and yellows.
laughter staining everything.
grudges dissolving in buckets of neon water.

what a month.
one hand in reflection. one hand in celebration.

march is that friend who meditates at sunrise
and throws a color bomb by noon.
maybe that’s the rhythm needed —
pause, then play. restraint, then riot. silence, then song.

the coast will thaw. slowly. stubbornly. but it will.

and between crescent moons and exploding colors,
march reminds us — seasons shift, hearts reset,
and even the longest winter doesn’t get the final word.

goodbye neat little feb.
hello glorious, chaotic, sacred, saturated march.