The earth and sky were unknown worlds to me; only the expanse of mother's bosom was a world to me.

Every movement was a symbol of life's pleasure to me; my own speech was like a meaningless word to me.

During infancy's pain if somebody made me cry; the noise of the door chain would comfort me.

Oh! How I stared at the moon for long hours staring at its silent journey among broken clouds.

I would ask repeatedly about its mountains and plains and how surprised would I be at that prudent lie.

My eye was devoted to seeing, my lip was prone to speak; my heart was no less than inquisitiveness personified.