A weekend's over. It's dawn. Twilight fades graciously. It's a Monday morning. You switch on some music. You let the guitar strumming fill the rectangular space of cottony grey freshness that's your room. You let the song coat over you as you get off the bed. It's a Monday morning. And with the legacy of music, you begin work.
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Rough and long day. Here are all the things that I am grateful for: 1. Papa seems to be getting better. 2. Had safe trips to Vashi and bac...
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This isn't exactly a feminist tirade, but this is written by a woman, and it is written in annoyance. You raise your girls to be sweet...
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I visited the Crossword at Mulund. It is big, bright, noisy, and has a really chic café. There are books too. The reason I was there was to ...
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