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Going Batty in Goa

It was an evening of colour. Caramel clouds tinged with coal dust waited for the sun to get moving.


As dusk settled in, the bats in the tree with the fallen leaves began to stir.


Gymnasts could learn a thing or two from this beautiful orange creature.


A CWG medal for this one, please. Clap, Clap.


The shenanigans continued as the clouds hovered around, pointing fingers.


The rickshaws lined up haphazardly, a queue essentially Indian.  Headlights were switched on. The night was almost here.



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