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I'm Sorry!
The fragrance! Ah! The fragrance! Those days of strong feelings! The music! The casting music of the T.V. serial! The songs, sung by Mukesh on the tape recorder, brought newly repaired. The bang! Ah! The bang of those doors that hid the face behind it, leaving me always beaten and always stumbled down abed. Then, the throbbing. And the sharp, piercing, “No”. And then, “I’m sorry.”
The fragrance of the lotion drowned me again down in the memory. The lotion which I used to rub on my face to get rid of the pimples has been one of those passages which lead me to this memory.