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1 article(s) translated from Oriya


A paper kite, black with yellow stripes, dangled from the branches of the gulmohur tree, and a flock of agitated crows flew around it cawing. Some went in perilously close, others hopped restlessly on nearby branches, ready to take a shot, but for some inexplicable reason none dared to attack, not yet. Whenever there was a breeze the kite flapped and reared up, and the birds scattered with a protest. Sasank sat with his mother and his wife on the veranda, watching the scene over a...

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