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Comments about sumauli goswami
Odessa Steps Memoirs
A sullen face before a mirror
A tormented soul lying prostate,
In a morbid darkness
Suddenly I feel cold, winds from the past,
Throws me out of the room
Out in the fields and from no where
Like a piercing pain I remember The Stepps,
The Odessa Stepps.
The montage unfolds and once again
Emancipation steps up into the
Core of my soul.
It pans through the pains (of our lives)
Zooms into the zombie (that's all of us)
Long shot of the length of life (we have lived
but in vain)
The life of my own was that of a ...