I want to draw a picture.
Infact, I want to draw many.
This one is that of my place.
My lost place in my village.
The place is so clear in my mind.
The trees.
The white sand.
I heard that they are selling sand now.
For it has lot of silica.
And silica brings them money.
They cut the matured mango tree first.
The dream road was the reason.
Then they took the land
To draw a line between the spaces.
The egos.
It was my space.
Where I grew my sand castle.
Where I ran around.
Now I am told that it is someone else's land.
Oops, I never knew that before.
Then they cut many many trees.
To build houses.
And now, there is no space.
My childhood place is nowhere.
It got buried under the rubble
There somewhere.
They buried me.
And my innocent memories.
It is so irrecoverable now.
So, I want to draw.
Draw the picture of the picture
That I photographed with my eyes.
Long long ago.
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