Ayan Joshi 1 The train wound its way into Shimla as the first flakes of snow began to fall, softening the mountain town into a postcard of white rooftops, misty pines, and narrow lanes alive with winter tourists. Aarav, carrying his DSLR slung across his shoulder, was the first to leap off the platform with boyish enthusiasm, capturing quick shots of the swirling mist as though he were on assignment. Nisha, in her woolen cap and notebook tucked beneath her arm, followed with a practiced curiosity in her eyes, already framing how this trip might spin into a magazine piece…