Sushantha is, like a butterfly with wings of thousand colours. And I am not talking much about her poetry here, I am talking about her. By probabilities I have been granted some access to the stuck pages, and I think I have held them dear. Before, during and after separating them. She is someone whom you can dream with and actually make them come true. And it has been a pleasure to dream with her. I don't want to tell you more, I don't want to tell you how she is, when she is angry, when she is gloomy, when she is happy or sad. I don't want to tell you how to talk to her or what to do. But I want to tell you that she is real. And existence of such realities, is almost non feasible at times let alone be a common happening. You won't meet her twice if you meet her as someone else. So maybe if you ever meet her, meet her like you really are.She likes almost everything that is alive but cockroaches, and lizards. And she has her list of close friends. They are fixed. She loves them, they love her. Some of them are cats. Beautiful cats. It's a narrow path with her at times, not many choices. But then you can never really fall with a butterfly with wings of thousand colours. Or, can you?
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