“It was then that she realized that the yellow butterflies preceded the appearances of Mauricio Babilonia.”
The minute I finished reading One Hundred Years of Solitude, a bunch of yellow butterflies entered my head. They never ever left. Nobody told me a story the way Marquez did.
I tried making a portrait of him, I might have failed in capturing him. But whatever, there are yellow butterflies in it. He will not mind even if his face doesn't really match. I know.
These are Mauricio Babilonia's butterflies.
These are Gabo's butterflies.
These are my butterflies too.
He himself said, “What matters in life is not what happens to you but what you remember and how you remember it.” . Now, this is how I remember every single story of Marquez. I will sit down with a book and his words mesmerize. They come swarming over my head, a bunch of yellow butterflies they are.
You sir, will be missed most dearly.
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