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Kuzhur Wilson Mar 2021
Your withered hair strands are my childhood
Love is now those tiny footsteps
That takes its maiden steps
Searching for each of those strands.
My mother's name is written on each of your greyed hair.
Where have you been
When you braided your hair
And kept the two of its braids
On to your chest.

Translation to English Jisha K
Translation to English Jisha K

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