Aadab to Mirza Saheb and love to all his children. To the village too. There is wisdom in the discretion and discernment. A silent bravery without the bravado. But I mourn what I had seen, and don’t see anymore. The yearning increases. Tears well without apparent reason. Tragedy is a foretold
You have put it beautifully - the India that was and the India that is trying to establish itself. But the latter is a fake, it will not last. Your piece explains why too. Bravo
बदलाव हमेशा दिशाहीन प्रलय की तरह है , वो होता रहता है और बहुत कुछ समेटकर चला जाता है ,
Beautifully evocative description of the village.
I feel your pain about the recent change.
Will stop now before I type in CAPITALS or swear.
Aadab to Mirza Saheb and love to all his children. To the village too. There is wisdom in the discretion and discernment. A silent bravery without the bravado. But I mourn what I had seen, and don’t see anymore. The yearning increases. Tears well without apparent reason. Tragedy is a foretold
You have put it beautifully - the India that was and the India that is trying to establish itself. But the latter is a fake, it will not last. Your piece explains why too. Bravo
Beautiful piece, thank you.
How beautiful. I could taste the summer in the small village.