It's not Love True story

By Risal Salu
Sep 05 2020 1 min read

See, you would prefer not to miss the dusk here, isn't that right?" he said as he directed his finger toward show the wonderful perspective on the blurring sun and the Mandovi waterway down beneath, washed in excellent shades of red and orange.  Before long, a small bunch of different onlookers went along with them at the sun deck. The DJ that was initially playing Jazz changed to a Spanish pop collection of Chambao. The melody it played was Ulere from the collection Caminando, making it the ideal setting to appreciate the dusk. Yashasvi appeared to be enchanted by the grand breadth of the waterway and the magnificence that lay ahead.  After practically thirty minutes, the sun vanished like a fireball suffocating into the water at a removed skyline, leaving just hints of ruddy enlightenment in the sky. The hues changed as the day advanced from various periods of nightfall to sunset, and afterward dimness dominated. The lit up Mandovi connect on the rear and its appearance in the stream was something to wonder upon. Supplementing the view was the delightful field

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