In love with Tawang. I still am.I’ve clung on to every bit of its wonder within the snow globe of my memory, whilst an instrumental piece of music plays in the background. It was a CD that my father played often in his room at the barracks. I had read somewhere that every memory has a soundtrack of its own. ’Tis true! Th atpiece of instrumental music and Tawang are inextricably entwined in my head. INVICTUS