“Pick me” the clay screamed.
But Plaster of Paris lured the little girl.
The next time she went for a picnic to the lake,
There were limbs and trunks floating
And they stank and never sank.
For our childhood necklace road memories, for our future hyderabadi style dates, for our Hussainsagar, opt for BROWN.
They tried to capture me,
They put a lid over me.
They thought the coins would keep me company
But every time they failed to see,
That I blew the roof off and kept the jar empty,
After a *Poof* and a *cough*,I was free,
For I am, without shackles, a genie.
Baigan Bhai finds himself in a pink position
A long strip on hot red sands
A hungry traveller gets his chance
Cursed waters on which I rise
I am the Nile Continue reading
Baigan Bhai back in action!