ho nostalgia dei vecchi tempi..

My grandmother used to tell me stories about “nidhi kakkunna bhoothathan”. When I was young, I believed them because they were so convincingly told.

There were more stories around me, growing into me as I grew up. The credulity of these stories, well I don’t know and I don’t want to. They were my mates. They were so special that I placed them close to my heart. Never ever I tried to interpret them with logic and thus spoiling their beauty.

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