Once I saw a little girl playing with the only doll she ever had.
The Doll was made of cloth, and was about eighteen inches tall.
She was dressed in a flared kurta* and churidaar pajama*.
Her small coti* on kurta was embroidered with silk threads
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A beautiful recollection of the past and lost beauty...................10
beautiful poem to reflect one's own mind. nice to read sentence after sentence.
Like a poet and his poem the little girl and the doll were solace to each other United in a single expression of love. The maker of doll, the little girl playing with it and the poet with its poetry Are all bound to each other with the creative imagery residing in their hearts Surging in the play of beauty and innocence. Ever lasting, ever new. - - - - - The creator and creations are bound together by thread of love- - a stunning piece.