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The Muffled Sounds Subhankar Das

I do not remember it anymore. I do not remember the date anymore. But still April is the cruelest month. And on someday in April. My friend Subhash died of a heart attack. Without treatment suffering at a free hospital. For eight long hours. The twelfth man who has no rights or claims. Who comes and vanishes. Falls on the way to be replaced immediately. Some-*******-day I will drop dead here and nobody. Will know, Subhash paused, his right hand up in mid air. And his fingers playing on an invisible piano.

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The Muffled Sounds Subhankar Das | booksonblog18.blogspot.com Reviews
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I do not remember it anymore. I do not remember the date anymore. But still April is the cruelest month. And on someday in April. My friend Subhash died of a heart attack. Without treatment suffering at a free hospital. For eight long hours. The twelfth man who has no rights or claims. Who comes and vanishes. Falls on the way to be replaced immediately. Some-*******-day I will drop dead here and nobody. Will know, Subhash paused, his right hand up in mid air. And his fingers playing on an invisible piano.
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1 the muffled sounds
2 subhankar das
3 twelfth man
4 by another
5 he said
6 two months
7 remain unwashed
8 game
9 she said
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The Muffled Sounds Subhankar Das | booksonblog18.blogspot.com Reviews

https://booksonblog18.blogspot.com

I do not remember it anymore. I do not remember the date anymore. But still April is the cruelest month. And on someday in April. My friend Subhash died of a heart attack. Without treatment suffering at a free hospital. For eight long hours. The twelfth man who has no rights or claims. Who comes and vanishes. Falls on the way to be replaced immediately. Some-*******-day I will drop dead here and nobody. Will know, Subhash paused, his right hand up in mid air. And his fingers playing on an invisible piano.

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The Muffled Sounds Subhankar Das

http://booksonblog18.blogspot.com/2011/11/twelfth-man-i-do-not-remember-it.html

I do not remember it anymore. I do not remember the date anymore. But still April is the cruelest month. And on someday in April. My friend Subhash died of a heart attack. Without treatment suffering at a free hospital. For eight long hours. The twelfth man who has no rights or claims. Who comes and vanishes. Falls on the way to be replaced immediately. Some-fucking-day I will drop dead here and nobody. Will know, Subhash paused, his right hand up in mid air. And his fingers playing on an invisible piano.

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The Muffled Sounds Subhankar Das

I do not remember it anymore. I do not remember the date anymore. But still April is the cruelest month. And on someday in April. My friend Subhash died of a heart attack. Without treatment suffering at a free hospital. For eight long hours. The twelfth man who has no rights or claims. Who comes and vanishes. Falls on the way to be replaced immediately. Some-fucking-day I will drop dead here and nobody. Will know, Subhash paused, his right hand up in mid air. And his fingers playing on an invisible piano.

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