He was a well-known writer of the area. Her home was a library adorned with books on a variety of subjects, adorning not only the house but the entire area. Local intellectuals and writers often gathered there to engage in literary dialogue. Sahids share colors in various forms of creation.
One day, the host writer was addressing the audience in the context of book culture during a literary meet held at his home, 'Friends, as you know, only books written by the author are his sons and daughters. Besides, these books are his best friends and real lovers .... '
Hearing these words, the wife of the writer, who was enjoying the mehfil, immediately said, 'Mr.
'Yes, Bhagwan! These books are the true lovers of the author, with whom he shares his personal experiences and inner turmoil, sharing his sorrows and joys', the writer stated his inner truth.
'You only got these paper books for happiness, no one else. Come away from these book stories / poems and come to the real story of the house ', as if the burden of his full mind has been lightened.
And the writer, like the mirror of his wife's glass-truth, addressed him face to face, 'Leave my absurdities to my government. If the third eye of knowledge within you had been opened then the real meaning of these friendly books / lovers would have become visible to you automatically, you would have got the answers to your questions without asking.
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