Cup of Companion

My favorite cup broke and old memories once again overflowed from the warehouse of my subconscious. A cup that had remained as a memento since the first days of my immigration. A cup whose existence had freed a woman from the bondage of longing, and for all these years, it was captive in the woman’s memories. Now I am confused; I do not know whether it was good or bad that the cup broke! With the breaking of this cup, the seal of silence was also broken. I want to shout every line of my life, I want to auction my soul. I think it is the right time to tear the chains of captivity, each link of which I had woven myself!