What unusual cries in this song, what restlessness, what grief of desperate love, looking back again and again, the broken chest breath of getting back, such love as the wise say is beautiful. But such love is twisted inside. Churna crumbles, moaning not to see, not to get. Me too - that happens to me. Now love no longer pulls me, no illusion closes to me. I still love him dearly, maybe he will never know, I will love him till old age. (Just left the words here) May my school life be good, my Rupmani, my Mithia called Mithila.
