Why is it that we choose to dress these inanimate dolls in the same garb as we would like to dress our animate selves?
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A prose poem inspired by a painting by Jamil Ahmad Khan, an artist from Ahmedabad, bearing the same title.
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To build a father out of the air, much like building much anything else from nothing, especially when the only time you saw him was those two sore years after your birth. You grow up to call anything father, even an old telephone pole.
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