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“The waves leave, but their story remains, written on the shores. The flower goes to sleep, but the scent remains in the breeze. What once was woven in love, leaves behind a poem, a song, or a dried rose between the pages. They are the memories of light.” — Jayita Bhattacharjee
The waves leave, but their story remains, written on the shores. The flower goes to sleep, but the scent remains in the breeze. What once was woven in love, leaves behind a poem, a song, or a dried rose between the pages. They are the memories of light.