Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Translated from Telugu by Dr. Haribandi Lakshmi, EFL University
“Your latest novel ‘Kiss Kiss’ has robbed my heart of. Any thought of my sexual life with my husband all the years makes me vomit. I wonder how I lived all these years with a dimwit who does not know any passion or pleasure. How do I get liberated from this life now? Please let me know immediately….”.
Suvarcala
Kakinada
‘I am glad that at least now you have realized what a dimwit he is. But you do not have to worry. In my next novel I am going to suggest a thousand tips to such sanyasis which would help them understand that life is a kick. Follow them ….’
Sundaram tossed that book away with an uncontrollable rage.
‘Follow them! My foot! Am I a dimwit? Does he think I am a sanyasi? Your clamor for fame is idiotic! If you give my name with full address how can I hold my head high tomorrow in the office? ….’
As mentioned in ‘three tips for a beautiful face’ Suvarcala gave her face a mask of cucumber. She applied tomato juice to the neck and arms and was sitting there quietly to allow them to dry up. She did not speak. She just opened her eyes to see in which direction went the magazine that was flung by Sundaram. It was not possible to pick up a quarrel with him at that moment. She only signalled to him that if she moved the cucumber pieces would fall off.
‘What a disgrace! …. You wrote everything about me - my name, place, house number and the job, just because you have a pen in your hand and made me a fool. How could you do that to me? How can I hold my head high in the office?’
Holding his head with his hands Sundaram slumped onto the sofa. Sarabh who was already there in the sofa screamed. And Sundaram who fell on him without noticing him screamed even louder. All this happened in a split second.
‘What is this? Why did you not go to school?’ asked the surprised Sundaram. Sarabh just showed his hand towards Suvarcala without moving even an inch and remained in the same position.
‘What happened to you dear?’
‘At school everybody started teasing me. They called me ‘a mad cap’. Even my teacher ….’
Sarabh’s voice choked with grief. ‘What? They called you mad!’ exclaimed Sundaram with his mouth wide open.
Sarabh gave his father a long look. He picked up the latest edition of a weekly magazine and handed it to him.
Sundaram turned the pages of it hurriedly. Under the column ‘Suggestions to remedy madness of all kinds.’ Sarabh’s photo with the following question was found.
‘Doctor! His behaviour is always strange. He does things, which you ask him not to do. He neither knows anything himself, nor listens to others. Do you think this is madness?’ This was Suvarcala’s question. Under it,
‘Certainly it is madness! At once consult at our hospital. If you don’t he might start biting everyone’ – this reply with his school address was given.
When he was sure that his father had gone through it Sarabh looked at his father most pitiably as if to ask ‘What do you say now, Dad?’, which melted his father’s heart.
‘It seems there is madness in my very name itself. My teacher told me’ said Sarabh with a sobbing face.
‘Who said that? Did she not read the serial ‘Assarabha Sarabha’, which entranced the readers for three long years? Oh lord! … People have no taste….’ Said Suvarcala. She took off the cucumber pieces from her face, as it was five minutes then.
Sundaram had no energy to shout at her. He said mournfully, ‘How do you expect us to go out if you do all such foolish things? Your letters paint him as a mad fellow and me, as a spineless fellow. You tell us yourself what we have to do now?’
‘Do not put such a mournful face. I hate it. You read the book, ‘Why are you scared to go out’ written by Kasa. All your fears will vanish’ said Suvarcala angrily.
‘Daddy, I think I will change my name to Subba Rao as many people have that name, I hope I will not be called a mad fellow then’ said their darling son.
Sundaram’s heart melted with pity.
But it solidified immediately with Suvarcala’s loud question, ‘Are you coming to have breakfast or not?’ Sundaram lifted his head up, looked at his father sympathetically and said, ‘First you go and have it daddy. If it is good then you call me.’
‘Why, any new dish again?’ asked the frightened father.
‘Come on. Are you coming? It is already late by a minute now. I have to take my breakfast at 10 sharp’.
Sitting at the dining table Sundaram asked her, ‘What is this? You have not cooked anything yet.’
‘Who said I did not cook?’ Suvarcala expressed her astonishment. On a plate there were neatly chopped round slices of tamatoes, onions, cucumber, lime and the like, sprinkled with coriander leaves.
‘What is this?’ Asked Sundaram who was startled as if he was bitten by a scorpion.
‘Don’t get frightened for everything foolishly. It will only spoil your health. To remain tension-free and peaceful we have to eat plain vegetarian food….’
Sundaram let out a startled cry.
‘You mean we have to eat these things and remain tension-free. Do we have to eat these alone all the three times a day?’, Sundaram asked her with a grim face.
‘Why not? ….. Of course you will also eat two chapathies’, said Suvarcala eating the chopped vegetables heartily.
‘Don’t you make idly or upma for breakfast hereafter?’ asked Sundaram feeling depressed.
‘Don’t ever mention them. Those are very rich in calories. You have already got a potbelly by eating all such stuff. Look at yourself. You used to be thin like a bird five years ago. Now you have become a cylinder’ said Suvarcala while eating the carrot slices.
Sundarama swallowed the affront.
‘I cann’t eat this stuff. Please spare me! Is this the food for Sarabham too?’
Suvarcala’s face changed its colours. ‘What is Sarabham like Gardhabam? (Donkey) Said Suvarcala annoyingly.
‘Daddy, our neighbour, Mr. Lokanadham has come. He is very angry, I don’t know why. He wants to speak to you urgently’, said Sarabh.
‘Angry! What for?’ Sundaram slowly rose to his feet.
Mr. Lokanadham was standing in the hall and looked very serious.
‘Why are you standing? Please be seated’ said Sundaram with all respect.
‘No need. You talk very politely with a sweet smile but stab in the back…. We are not used to such things’ said Lokanadham with a frown.
Sundaram was puzzled. He looked at him in utter confusion.
‘We are neighbours, all right. If you like, you talk to us, otherwise don’t. But, is it fair to publish our names in the newspapers? ---’ said Lokanadham throwing a newspaper at him.
‘What happened?’, said Sundaram faintly.
‘You see it yourself’, saying so he walked away with vigorous strides.
Horrified, Sundaram opened the paper. Under the caption ‘Ideal husband Lokanadham’ there was an essay. All the details were written there – how good a cook Lokanadham was and now cleanly he washes the dishes. Suvacala wrote an excellent essay explaining what all women can achieve if there were husbands as cooperative as Lokanadham.
Sundaram was over-whelmed with both rage and laughter. He said ‘What hell have you done Suvarcala? How does it concern you whether he cooks food or washes the dishes? Do you think they keep quiet if you get all that published in a newspaper?’
Suvarcala, who had finished her breakfast by then, looked at him sharply and said seriously, ‘What is this? You neither do it nor do you approve somebody who does it. How can one stand such a suspicious creature?’
‘Oh God! A suspicious creature! If you make his biography public along with the photographs, do you think he will keep quiet? Is he a brother of Lord Buddha to be above pain and pleasure?’ said Sundaram wiping the sweat.
‘Why should he be angry? What sin have I committed? Is it the privilege of women alone to cook food and wash the dishes? Anybody can do these petty jobs. Yours is a demon’s life …. You say you don’t know how to do these things and leave your coffee cup too here and there. One has to be born blessed for anything. Look at Lokanadham’s wife! How happy and healthy she is!’ said Suvarcala with tears.
‘So what? Do you want me too to cook food and mop the floor?’ shouted Sundaram.
‘Why not? It is not a difficult job. Have I been doing them right from my birth? When I was studying in the college how glamorous I used to be! How many love letters did I receive! You yourself wrote a thousand and odd love letters, but of course with many mistakes. I had such a glamorous life, hadn’t I? By the way, the word glamour reminds me that it is 10.30 now. It is time to take a glass of fruit juice without sugar. Wait, I will come….’
‘Oh Lord! I can’t reason with her!’ saying so Sundaram fell back.
‘True, indeed! You can’t, certainly not! You only know how to alienate your mother and sisters. Nobody else can do it’ said Varalakshmamma.
Sundaram was dumbstruck as if he was struck by a lightening.
‘When did you come mother?’ He was overjoyed to see his mother.
‘Mother! I am starved! You have saved me from dying by coming here though quite unexpectedly’, said Sundaram delightedly.
‘Yes, true! Whenever you see me you think only of your food and tummy. I am reduced to a skeleton by cooking for you. I laboured hard to bring you up only to be detested by you’. She broke down and wept.
Sundaram was taken aback on seeing her crying bitterly. Getting angry he asked her, ‘Did father scold you?’
‘Why would he scold me? If he were to be the one to scold me and beat me I wouldn’t have faced all this humiliation today.’ Saying so she has blown her nose.
‘What happened mother? For God’s sake please stop all these long preambles and metrical reproaches and tell me what has happened. I am going mad not knowing what the matter is’, said Sundaram controlling his fury.
‘What more should happen dear? How humiliated we have been! Oh God! Tell me - Did I ever scold you or your wife? Did I ever make you do the household work? It seems that at the time of your marriage I complained that your in-laws did not treat us properly. It seems your sister too grumbled at them for they did not offer her a good saree. That was the sin we reportedly committed. Perhaps at that time, being an old woman, I might have felt bad for they did not offer us good sarees. Is it a crime?’ She started sobbing again.
Sundaram could not make head or tail out of it. He was confused. He looked alternately at his wife who was sipping the juice, and at his mother who was sobbing and blowing her nose.
Varalakshmamma’s blood boiled.
‘What is that mad gaze? See how your wife has dragged us to the streets!….’ She took out a paper from her hand bag and threw it at his face.
‘Nagging mothers-in-law, - be careful – written by Suvarcala’ …. Sundaram’s head reeled. He felt as if the letters had grown as big as the palm fruits and were coming to attack him.
‘What is this?’ Turning to his wife he asked her with a feeble tone.
‘Your first experience at your in-law’s place’ – a column with this caption was introduced. They announced a grinder as the first prize for the best essay. Your mother’s grumbles on our wedding day are fresh in my mind as if I heard them just yesterday. I thought it would read very natural if I .... ‘ Suvarcala hesitated.
‘How dare you write an essay on my mother to make it read natural and bag a prize! You blackhead!’ Sundaram expressed his anguish.
‘See, I hate people who abuse like this! Don’t think you can scold me! This is the reason why my mother at the time of our marriage shed tears saying that I entered an ungracious house.
‘What! She shed tears! And what more, she was worried that ours was an ungracious house! Ask her how gracious her own house is …. How dare she make such a nasty remark! ……’
‘Mother …. Mother …. Please stop it. Please listen to me’. Sundaram was scared fearing that his mother and wife might start a war.
‘Why should I stop? You spineless fellow! You are an idiot. You can’t control your wife. You ask me to listen to you! I don’t want to touch even a drop of water at your house. I am going ….’ Varalakshmamma started to leave in a huff.
‘What? Should he control his wife? Do you think his wife is an animal? How savage you people are!’ …. Suvarcala was piqued.
‘Yes, yes! We are indeed savage people! You are a noble person! Why don’t you open your mouth when she is making all such offensive remarks?… You dumb fellow!…’
‘Mother please, you come here! I have to tell you many things. First let me tell you, it has been two days since I had food….’ Sundaram holding her hands most pathetically led her to the kitchen.
‘Very strange! You are not even taking your food my dear…’ she said with tears welling in her eyes and walked towards the kitchen. Watching his granny walk towards the kitchen Sarabh ran in that direction. Within two minutes the aroma of Upma filled the whole house. Suvarcala looked at the direction they went with a heavy heart. As written in the novel ‘Assarabha Sarabha’ she tired to lift one eyebrow up and look seriously, but couldn’t. Both the eyebrows started moving as she tried. She thought it was no use trying further. She tried to get red streaks in her eyes standing before the mirror. No use either. Even when she squeezed her eyes red streaks did not appear. Instead tears welled in the eyes. She gave it up. Vexed up, she lay down in the sofa, and picked up the magazine left there by Sarabh. When she was looking at the name ‘Suvarcala’ fondly, she happened to find an announcement:
‘Are you depressed? Are you worried about something which you can’t share with anyone? Share it with your bosom friend. In this page a new column ‘A letter to a bosom friend’ is going to be introduced next week.’
Suvarcala was elated.
Dear bosom friend
A few minutes ago there took place a Kurukshetra war in my house. I praised my neighbour, a useless rogue, saying that he was a good cook. It seems what I did was wrong. Can you hear, my bosom friend? Both my husband and mother-in-law belong to the species of wild creatures… I feel that there is just no place for virtue in this world. Tell me friend, tell me the truth…..’
Suvarcala was writing with great excitement.
* * * * *
“Your latest novel ‘Kiss Kiss’ has robbed my heart of. Any thought of my sexual life with my husband all the years makes me vomit. I wonder how I lived all these years with a dimwit who does not know any passion or pleasure. How do I get liberated from this life now? Please let me know immediately….”.
Suvarcala
Kakinada
‘I am glad that at least now you have realized what a dimwit he is. But you do not have to worry. In my next novel I am going to suggest a thousand tips to such sanyasis which would help them understand that life is a kick. Follow them ….’
Sundaram tossed that book away with an uncontrollable rage.
‘Follow them! My foot! Am I a dimwit? Does he think I am a sanyasi? Your clamor for fame is idiotic! If you give my name with full address how can I hold my head high tomorrow in the office? ….’
As mentioned in ‘three tips for a beautiful face’ Suvarcala gave her face a mask of cucumber. She applied tomato juice to the neck and arms and was sitting there quietly to allow them to dry up. She did not speak. She just opened her eyes to see in which direction went the magazine that was flung by Sundaram. It was not possible to pick up a quarrel with him at that moment. She only signalled to him that if she moved the cucumber pieces would fall off.
‘What a disgrace! …. You wrote everything about me - my name, place, house number and the job, just because you have a pen in your hand and made me a fool. How could you do that to me? How can I hold my head high in the office?’
Holding his head with his hands Sundaram slumped onto the sofa. Sarabh who was already there in the sofa screamed. And Sundaram who fell on him without noticing him screamed even louder. All this happened in a split second.
‘What is this? Why did you not go to school?’ asked the surprised Sundaram. Sarabh just showed his hand towards Suvarcala without moving even an inch and remained in the same position.
‘What happened to you dear?’
‘At school everybody started teasing me. They called me ‘a mad cap’. Even my teacher ….’
Sarabh’s voice choked with grief. ‘What? They called you mad!’ exclaimed Sundaram with his mouth wide open.
Sarabh gave his father a long look. He picked up the latest edition of a weekly magazine and handed it to him.
Sundaram turned the pages of it hurriedly. Under the column ‘Suggestions to remedy madness of all kinds.’ Sarabh’s photo with the following question was found.
‘Doctor! His behaviour is always strange. He does things, which you ask him not to do. He neither knows anything himself, nor listens to others. Do you think this is madness?’ This was Suvarcala’s question. Under it,
‘Certainly it is madness! At once consult at our hospital. If you don’t he might start biting everyone’ – this reply with his school address was given.
When he was sure that his father had gone through it Sarabh looked at his father most pitiably as if to ask ‘What do you say now, Dad?’, which melted his father’s heart.
‘It seems there is madness in my very name itself. My teacher told me’ said Sarabh with a sobbing face.
‘Who said that? Did she not read the serial ‘Assarabha Sarabha’, which entranced the readers for three long years? Oh lord! … People have no taste….’ Said Suvarcala. She took off the cucumber pieces from her face, as it was five minutes then.
Sundaram had no energy to shout at her. He said mournfully, ‘How do you expect us to go out if you do all such foolish things? Your letters paint him as a mad fellow and me, as a spineless fellow. You tell us yourself what we have to do now?’
‘Do not put such a mournful face. I hate it. You read the book, ‘Why are you scared to go out’ written by Kasa. All your fears will vanish’ said Suvarcala angrily.
‘Daddy, I think I will change my name to Subba Rao as many people have that name, I hope I will not be called a mad fellow then’ said their darling son.
Sundaram’s heart melted with pity.
But it solidified immediately with Suvarcala’s loud question, ‘Are you coming to have breakfast or not?’ Sundaram lifted his head up, looked at his father sympathetically and said, ‘First you go and have it daddy. If it is good then you call me.’
‘Why, any new dish again?’ asked the frightened father.
‘Come on. Are you coming? It is already late by a minute now. I have to take my breakfast at 10 sharp’.
Sitting at the dining table Sundaram asked her, ‘What is this? You have not cooked anything yet.’
‘Who said I did not cook?’ Suvarcala expressed her astonishment. On a plate there were neatly chopped round slices of tamatoes, onions, cucumber, lime and the like, sprinkled with coriander leaves.
‘What is this?’ Asked Sundaram who was startled as if he was bitten by a scorpion.
‘Don’t get frightened for everything foolishly. It will only spoil your health. To remain tension-free and peaceful we have to eat plain vegetarian food….’
Sundaram let out a startled cry.
‘You mean we have to eat these things and remain tension-free. Do we have to eat these alone all the three times a day?’, Sundaram asked her with a grim face.
‘Why not? ….. Of course you will also eat two chapathies’, said Suvarcala eating the chopped vegetables heartily.
‘Don’t you make idly or upma for breakfast hereafter?’ asked Sundaram feeling depressed.
‘Don’t ever mention them. Those are very rich in calories. You have already got a potbelly by eating all such stuff. Look at yourself. You used to be thin like a bird five years ago. Now you have become a cylinder’ said Suvarcala while eating the carrot slices.
Sundarama swallowed the affront.
‘I cann’t eat this stuff. Please spare me! Is this the food for Sarabham too?’
Suvarcala’s face changed its colours. ‘What is Sarabham like Gardhabam? (Donkey) Said Suvarcala annoyingly.
‘Daddy, our neighbour, Mr. Lokanadham has come. He is very angry, I don’t know why. He wants to speak to you urgently’, said Sarabh.
‘Angry! What for?’ Sundaram slowly rose to his feet.
Mr. Lokanadham was standing in the hall and looked very serious.
‘Why are you standing? Please be seated’ said Sundaram with all respect.
‘No need. You talk very politely with a sweet smile but stab in the back…. We are not used to such things’ said Lokanadham with a frown.
Sundaram was puzzled. He looked at him in utter confusion.
‘We are neighbours, all right. If you like, you talk to us, otherwise don’t. But, is it fair to publish our names in the newspapers? ---’ said Lokanadham throwing a newspaper at him.
‘What happened?’, said Sundaram faintly.
‘You see it yourself’, saying so he walked away with vigorous strides.
Horrified, Sundaram opened the paper. Under the caption ‘Ideal husband Lokanadham’ there was an essay. All the details were written there – how good a cook Lokanadham was and now cleanly he washes the dishes. Suvacala wrote an excellent essay explaining what all women can achieve if there were husbands as cooperative as Lokanadham.
Sundaram was over-whelmed with both rage and laughter. He said ‘What hell have you done Suvarcala? How does it concern you whether he cooks food or washes the dishes? Do you think they keep quiet if you get all that published in a newspaper?’
Suvarcala, who had finished her breakfast by then, looked at him sharply and said seriously, ‘What is this? You neither do it nor do you approve somebody who does it. How can one stand such a suspicious creature?’
‘Oh God! A suspicious creature! If you make his biography public along with the photographs, do you think he will keep quiet? Is he a brother of Lord Buddha to be above pain and pleasure?’ said Sundaram wiping the sweat.
‘Why should he be angry? What sin have I committed? Is it the privilege of women alone to cook food and wash the dishes? Anybody can do these petty jobs. Yours is a demon’s life …. You say you don’t know how to do these things and leave your coffee cup too here and there. One has to be born blessed for anything. Look at Lokanadham’s wife! How happy and healthy she is!’ said Suvarcala with tears.
‘So what? Do you want me too to cook food and mop the floor?’ shouted Sundaram.
‘Why not? It is not a difficult job. Have I been doing them right from my birth? When I was studying in the college how glamorous I used to be! How many love letters did I receive! You yourself wrote a thousand and odd love letters, but of course with many mistakes. I had such a glamorous life, hadn’t I? By the way, the word glamour reminds me that it is 10.30 now. It is time to take a glass of fruit juice without sugar. Wait, I will come….’
‘Oh Lord! I can’t reason with her!’ saying so Sundaram fell back.
‘True, indeed! You can’t, certainly not! You only know how to alienate your mother and sisters. Nobody else can do it’ said Varalakshmamma.
Sundaram was dumbstruck as if he was struck by a lightening.
‘When did you come mother?’ He was overjoyed to see his mother.
‘Mother! I am starved! You have saved me from dying by coming here though quite unexpectedly’, said Sundaram delightedly.
‘Yes, true! Whenever you see me you think only of your food and tummy. I am reduced to a skeleton by cooking for you. I laboured hard to bring you up only to be detested by you’. She broke down and wept.
Sundaram was taken aback on seeing her crying bitterly. Getting angry he asked her, ‘Did father scold you?’
‘Why would he scold me? If he were to be the one to scold me and beat me I wouldn’t have faced all this humiliation today.’ Saying so she has blown her nose.
‘What happened mother? For God’s sake please stop all these long preambles and metrical reproaches and tell me what has happened. I am going mad not knowing what the matter is’, said Sundaram controlling his fury.
‘What more should happen dear? How humiliated we have been! Oh God! Tell me - Did I ever scold you or your wife? Did I ever make you do the household work? It seems that at the time of your marriage I complained that your in-laws did not treat us properly. It seems your sister too grumbled at them for they did not offer her a good saree. That was the sin we reportedly committed. Perhaps at that time, being an old woman, I might have felt bad for they did not offer us good sarees. Is it a crime?’ She started sobbing again.
Sundaram could not make head or tail out of it. He was confused. He looked alternately at his wife who was sipping the juice, and at his mother who was sobbing and blowing her nose.
Varalakshmamma’s blood boiled.
‘What is that mad gaze? See how your wife has dragged us to the streets!….’ She took out a paper from her hand bag and threw it at his face.
‘Nagging mothers-in-law, - be careful – written by Suvarcala’ …. Sundaram’s head reeled. He felt as if the letters had grown as big as the palm fruits and were coming to attack him.
‘What is this?’ Turning to his wife he asked her with a feeble tone.
‘Your first experience at your in-law’s place’ – a column with this caption was introduced. They announced a grinder as the first prize for the best essay. Your mother’s grumbles on our wedding day are fresh in my mind as if I heard them just yesterday. I thought it would read very natural if I .... ‘ Suvarcala hesitated.
‘How dare you write an essay on my mother to make it read natural and bag a prize! You blackhead!’ Sundaram expressed his anguish.
‘See, I hate people who abuse like this! Don’t think you can scold me! This is the reason why my mother at the time of our marriage shed tears saying that I entered an ungracious house.
‘What! She shed tears! And what more, she was worried that ours was an ungracious house! Ask her how gracious her own house is …. How dare she make such a nasty remark! ……’
‘Mother …. Mother …. Please stop it. Please listen to me’. Sundaram was scared fearing that his mother and wife might start a war.
‘Why should I stop? You spineless fellow! You are an idiot. You can’t control your wife. You ask me to listen to you! I don’t want to touch even a drop of water at your house. I am going ….’ Varalakshmamma started to leave in a huff.
‘What? Should he control his wife? Do you think his wife is an animal? How savage you people are!’ …. Suvarcala was piqued.
‘Yes, yes! We are indeed savage people! You are a noble person! Why don’t you open your mouth when she is making all such offensive remarks?… You dumb fellow!…’
‘Mother please, you come here! I have to tell you many things. First let me tell you, it has been two days since I had food….’ Sundaram holding her hands most pathetically led her to the kitchen.
‘Very strange! You are not even taking your food my dear…’ she said with tears welling in her eyes and walked towards the kitchen. Watching his granny walk towards the kitchen Sarabh ran in that direction. Within two minutes the aroma of Upma filled the whole house. Suvarcala looked at the direction they went with a heavy heart. As written in the novel ‘Assarabha Sarabha’ she tired to lift one eyebrow up and look seriously, but couldn’t. Both the eyebrows started moving as she tried. She thought it was no use trying further. She tried to get red streaks in her eyes standing before the mirror. No use either. Even when she squeezed her eyes red streaks did not appear. Instead tears welled in the eyes. She gave it up. Vexed up, she lay down in the sofa, and picked up the magazine left there by Sarabh. When she was looking at the name ‘Suvarcala’ fondly, she happened to find an announcement:
‘Are you depressed? Are you worried about something which you can’t share with anyone? Share it with your bosom friend. In this page a new column ‘A letter to a bosom friend’ is going to be introduced next week.’
Suvarcala was elated.
Dear bosom friend
A few minutes ago there took place a Kurukshetra war in my house. I praised my neighbour, a useless rogue, saying that he was a good cook. It seems what I did was wrong. Can you hear, my bosom friend? Both my husband and mother-in-law belong to the species of wild creatures… I feel that there is just no place for virtue in this world. Tell me friend, tell me the truth…..’
Suvarcala was writing with great excitement.
* * * * *
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
0 వ్యాఖ్యలు:
Post a Comment