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I ran barefoot in wild orchid fields in the foothills of Himalayas. I have been seasoned with the aroma of wild flowers and grasses, I have swum in white water currents that penetrate mountains, and I have well beaten by wild monsoons.I have enjoyed the stories told by the wind in my sunflower field in the south, I have slept the day away in the field listening to honeybees.As the world shrank, I had also been roasted in hot Indian air, I have nested in and crossed through American prairies. Now I can hear the silent whisper of the pines as I stumble in northern snows in Europe. Tingling feeling I get when snowflakes kiss my face. I am in my twenties but I sometimes feel I havent yet left my childhood.I love the smell of the earth, the flavor that bounces in the atmosphere with spring showers. Even with a little light in dark, I see myself more than a silhouette, I am the rain, the snow, the breeze, the vapor and the stream. When I outline my life, I am a color, one among millions, yet undefined. That is basically me.
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