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One fine day my uncle was clearing his old wooden boxes in which he had many of his books. From it, he took out a book and gave it to me. It was an old book and a bit torn in the corners. Even the papers became dull and some stains were also there. I didn’t like the book with its appearance and was sad that he gave me such an old, toned book to read. “Can’t he buy me a new book?” I thought and kept it aside not to touch. The bo...
