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Many a times, she dances blindfolded upon this path, cloaked in vulnerability and judgment. Swimming inside a pool of darkness. All around her, a trapeze of complex knots. Is it time to return to her garden of love, away from these bustling cityscapes, she wonders ? The solitude of the ash-laden spider, resting like a petite statuette upon the bark of the Gulmohar tree, beckons her impoverished soul. Miserable and distraught, she swallows her own darkness, awaiting some kindling to spark her creative flow …