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Mumbai, Maharashtra, India
My mother sent me a lovely plant on my 40th Birthday. But with it she sent me a rose. I’m not the biggest fan of the rose. But it came from my mom and dad and it will therefore always be the best. But as time passed, I saw the colours change and the petals dry up, become crispy. And the rose looked even more beautiful. It has since withered some more, the colours have changed, but it still shines, every petal with its every wrinkle.