The burden of the love of my parents was too much and their wishes and desires made me so tired that with the passage of time, I lost my vigor to speak. Life continued to move on and today when I was arranging my books, a worn out sketchpad caught my attention. The fine drawings took me into those days of my childhood when I was called an obedient child, for while listening to my parents’ dreams, I used to become tongue -tied.
I blew the dust off and sighed.
In all my life, I remained my parents’ favorite sketchbook.
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