Sreelekha Chatterjee
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Breathing Memories
Read more: Breathing MemoriesAn hour that goes by forms memories, even when life is busy collecting tomorrow’s worms, splendidly popping up like bubbles in still water. Some are tall, illuminated buildings like a bonfire sticking out its golden tongue, lapping the dark firmament— shifting like the ebb and flow. Others are perilously impartial— like fireworks they sparkle and…