February is always the month of struggles for me… struggling with the weather at its most bitter; with my emotions and my tearful eyes; with my past due bills and the sense of guilt… so on and so forth… the month seldom hears me murmuring to myself… can’t you just be less cruel? can you be just a tiny bit warmer? you are bloody well killing us… dear lord, I can’t thank you enough that it’s over…

And now, here comes lovely March… The month that always brings me many cravings and desires which tend to change every single hour… cravings for the oddest things and for certain people… both real and fantasy ones… cravings for places that gives me a sense of nostalgia… Kelardasht, in the Northern part of Iran… Oh, I so crave that kind of green, dark and dense… the smell in the sky is indescribable… the smell of burnt wood mixed with humidity… so clear and refreshing… I crave Portobello Road, where I used to wander around aimlessly… smoking my hand-rolled cigarettes and trying my best to inhale it right while exhaling it in the most fashionable way… the market, the colors and the sexy British accents heard in those lively corner pubs… the streets which used to make me the happiest I have ever been… oh, the list can go on and on but I just can’t say them all… maybe I’m embarrassed or perhaps they are too private to go public…

I now look forward to the beginning of spring… to the arrivals… to Norooz, the Persian celebration of new year… so symbolic and pretty…

Ladies and gents, my countdown has just begun…

S