Somewhere on your head, that smell is still there. ”Bright -What you were never told -This smell isnt exactly mine,Long ago, the day when the first Kalavaishakhi came -The day I took off my black hair and got wetI got a little wet in the rain -My Hair - My Lips - My Chest -From that day on - this smell is like me.I burn a lot - Ahiritola or Shibpur,All that is left is a hug.Im old enough to take stock -The rest of the account - the direction of release is me.

C