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A mission to explore Moncalieri every weekend and Write about it. I stepped out of the airplane nervous, confused and scared all at the same time, despite the view of snowy Alps. That stretched far into the horizon, golden fields and chilly air outside. I thought I had to learn the language to understand you and in course of time, I learnt of your patience in understanding even my helpless silences.

What is it about the past that makes it present itself to us in such strange and wistful ways? Like the feeling of a snowflake on your skin, or the evening light glinting into your eyes.