Autobiography of a Flower Vase

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Autobiography of a flower vase I am a huge flower vase, about three feet high. The colour of my body is red in the background and is painted with multi-coloured paints, makes me look just two beautiful for words to describe. I form a very attractive item of decoration at the entrance of the huge bungalow of my master. To add to my beauty, when multi-coloured Gladioli are fixed into my body, I look just dashing, and absolutely incomparable I am sure. My life has been full of ups and downs but now, as I write this for you to read, I am very snugly and comfortably placed in a cosy and conspicuous corner of the entrance of my master's palace like house, I don't know what it is. I had come here about six months back, and all the time I did not know that, the place, or rather the house I am in is not a home, it is a hotel of great repute in the town. The manager of the hotel is one Mr. Srivastava, and all the time I thought that, the mansion is his house. Only a few days back, I heard some conversation which enlightened me, and I learnt that this mansion is a Hotel. It was month’s back that I was bought from a shop in Lajpat Nagar by my master, Mr. Srivastava. Before he bought me, my life had been rather disturbed. I resided in a shop with several of my brothers small and big, elder and younger, shorter and taller. All of us used to feel cramped and suffocated due to lack of breathing space in the small area of the shop. Our master, the shopkeeper had no space to keep us neatly settled and decorated in the shop. The routine was that, every morning we were taken out of the closed doors of the shop where we had lay huddled up through the night, and put outside on the pavement in front of the shop. Then, after the day was over, we were all picked up from the pavement and put inside the shop, all closeted in very little space, in a corner of the shop. The place was

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