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“Someone with no shape came suddenly in my life’s noon and grabbing with trembling hands asked me, lost on my own footpath walking endlessly as far as the memory goes, and asked— whose city is this?” — Suman Pokhrel
Someone with no shape
came suddenly in my life’s noon
and grabbing with trembling hands
asked me, lost on my own footpath
walking endlessly
as far as the memory goes,
and asked—
whose city is this?