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The biting chill, the cloudy skies with only a dirty cloak to cover the urchin's shivering body...nose watering and running like the flowing water of the Dal lake where he rows his shikara...to reach his school...torn boots and hungry eyes....this is our paradise on earth...and we talk of retaining our heaven...Have lost my heart to these small children there...and as for the government they can keep sending convoys after convoys of soldiers and garrisons...lets feel the heart of this land to help...its also in our hands



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No one stole Mamma's laptop

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