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Myra Ahmad's Writings

I vividly recall those daysWhen childhood ruled my worldGoing over to friend’s housesClimbing on trees; hidden in leavesSneaking ripe guavas in our pocketsAnd then running away; laughingAs the old man comes with a stickI still smile at sweet remembranceOf birthday parties and gamesThrowing pieces of cakes at birthday childBefore being turned out by the angry...