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My mother, pregnant, was in the hospital-bed.
"A baby sister", she was once again reminded.
She kissed me and said, “Yea”
“I will get you one without delay.”
            (After a few days)

Many hands led me where a baby screamed.
“A sister it is,” cried they “that you always dreamed.”
But I left the crowd and, crying, to my mother sped
“Why here?,” she chided; “I heard you scream more” was all I said.

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“Hi! I am S.Neelakantan. I am from Trivandrum, the capital city of Karalla, India, God's own country. It is nice, believe me, to be a lover of languages rather than a pundit of them. I love to read, write and discuss poems for poetry is one of the ten prettiest things in the world. I post my poems seriously and with great expectations.

“Please read and comment.”

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