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“Morning finds the shiuli fallen, white stars on wet earth. I pick one— its fragrance is a memory I cannot place. A child laughs nearby. The flower wilts in my palm. Everything beautiful has an expiry date. I learn this again and again” — Avijeet Das

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Morning finds the shiuli fallen, white stars on wet earth. I pick one— its fragrance is a memory I cannot place. A child laughs nearby. The flower wilts in my palm. Everything beautiful has an expiry date. I learn this again and again
— Avijeet Das