It is too late every year, but there is always hope for the new one..you run against the tide of time to see with your own eyes how the beauty of the moment was created…trees rustle stories which keep you up at night..trapped between regret and fulfilment, we are born again and again…you can spend your three consecutive lives in silence, dwelling on the first one, but you must not forget that you know places where you will always see everything you heart has always been beating with.