She was as fair as the lily of the lotus. It felt too good. Women are made like the potter’s vessels —either for worship or contumely, and are withal fragile vessels. The beach: to get there as quickly as he could, to reach the white man's nadir of abasement and gather the promise of that soothing indifference which comes with the final disintegration of the fibres of conscience. She had carried a chair into the room veranda and had watched and listened until the night silences had lengthened and only occasionally she heard a voice or the rattle of rickshaw wheels in the courtyard.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTM1LjE5Ni4xMDMgLSAyMi0wOS0yMDI0IDE3OjM2OjIyIC0gMjk0MTQ1NDQ2
This video was uploaded to thiruvalluvan.com on 19-09-2024 01:45:33
Related resources: Ref1 - Ref2 - Ref3 - Ref4 - Ref5 - Ref6 - Ref7 - Ref8 - Ref9