Dear Season, addressing love has to be written! If you want to write the rest of the season. On such a cold night on a cold night, the mind is so upset that if you come in front of it, you will immediately shake your blonde-rat-cheeked cheeks, and then put your head in your lap and shake your eyebrows with a tinge of eyes.
You know, I don't like writing letters and talking. Where can I find the ears that can hear the silent language of my eyes in this noisy world? That's why I'm writing my letters in the ear of this paper. Will you listen
In the twilight of eleven-thirty at night, the cold of the weather has made the roads dry. Sitting on the sidewalk of a mill-retail shop on Relief Road, I am writing this letter to you at the light of the road-light. Looking down at me - in the cold underneath the lamppost - a puppy-tailed dog. And I am writing this letter in the hope of meeting someone.
In six months, as many as six hundred lives have been lost, the burden has increased on the mind. I go to one of our favorite ice cream parlors almost every evening to take it off, and I order a saffron pistachio dish for both of us. A pale-faced Rajasthani waiter who knows us also asks,
"Why doesn't Sir Ben appear with you now?" "What shall I answer him?" So then I spray them, "You work with a tip, aren't you?" Dumb panchayat! "" No, but you say, where I was going to answer that question I do not know exactly.
Considering me as a potential customer, I have gone from being tired to a parasite standing next to a bus stop near a lamp stand. He might have solved the script of the raga towards the star that was in my eyes. On the road across the street, I might have been waiting for Rajio to stop stereo on Swami's pan's throat - to feed me the twentieth day and the last page, to give me a packet of cigarettes and close the throat. Remember the season, once you make love to me, no more than five in a day of tobacco, and the cigarette is all right. ” In those days Rajio was angry with me.
But for the last six months he has been very happy with me. That is why he has been waiting for me till now. And I like that. What a thrill to have the feeling that someone is waiting for us? A small beggar whispering in front of the alley of the pan stands in front of such a well-appointed night, grabbing a cold railing. Who is to say, brother, that this road is now so well-stocked that your outstretched hand is to be left empty.
Just recently a scooter-ridden young couple swerved off the road, and the cold air of the metaphorical seat on the back-seat gave a shout. However, you are now a blessing to me and the season!
Who knows why something cool looks so special today. This may be due to increased body temperature. But now I must get up after completing the letter. The changing rhythm of breath is triggering an asthma attack, and Rajiv is preparing to close the throat. The battered dog has fallen asleep beneath a cold, dusty puddle, and the beggar has simply returned.
Just get up now.
- Always your rag
Anger! Today, after your letter has been changed, I have gotten out of the trash.
Where do I post it? Neither do I know your address, nor the season. Yes it happens that I give it to you in the neck of Rajia's Pan ...
(Title line: Dr. Dilip Modi - Surat)
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