I do always dream of a beautiful village.The village with lush green meadows,broad metallic roads demarcated with tall poplar trees,and running broods.A village where people do assemble under the chinars and share its shade.I want to preserve these soul refreshing moments-the moments gifted with love,faith and integrity.I dream my elders plan to sow the seedlings, and to harvest them together.Their self-help crowned with sweet melodies which they chant in the fields bring the angels to excitement.Within my dream I still have a faint image of the boys running to the stream with willow baskets to catch the fish.But...the moment i lay the hand on a fish, my dream is shuttered.God knows Why?
