Mani Kaul's graceful gaze through layers of transparent walls between two people's lingering gestures and emotions which aimed at the atmosphere as the nostalgic wind blazed the trail. Frail. Faith was well-fought. Walls were crushed. Gazes were met through cracks. And the rest was just two isolated hands trying to touch each other in haste, in waste, in slow motion.

WOW!

Imagine being a 6 y.o. going back in time to meet your 6 y.o. mom and then playing with her, sharing the same innocence and just being a child together, all day long. That would be nice. No, that would be precious.

When the last scene cut to black, I saw the reflection of me on my screen. The face of a sad little shit who just cried about five times in a matter of two hours.

You got me good, Koreeda-san.