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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.

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

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

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

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

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

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