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a dragon fly

I am not at all interested to write memoir. Revealing the truth …Ah! it is horrible. May be some truth will make you the bad man. Often I think what blocks people not to endure the truth, while whole universe is full of good and bad.

Hey… it is too psychological. Rather, I should write a story of dragon flies, colorful and amazing.

One day with Priya I was on the fifth floor of the office building. Her work place was not so comfortable in the summer, but in rainy day it turns into a magical place to enjoy and get revelation. After sipping tea I looked outside the window. Some dragon flies were flying there to bring the memory of my childhood.

‘’Priya, do you know, I have deep relation with these dragon flies.’

‘Is it true. I also have their memory.’

‘The universal truth is, each one of us have a story to tell about dragon flies.’

‘ Yes, you are right. Let us write about them.’

‘You mean a memory.’

‘No, I mean a story with truth.’

I brought a white colour drawing paper and draw a dragon fly there with the smiling lips of a girl of seven years old. Then I wrote a haiku.

an angel

over the soft palm
 
a dragon fly
 
I gifted it to Priya. She laughed like a seven years old girl.I was unveiling my childhood…how amazing it was…dancing like a stream over hard rock of reality

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