Shirt

I'm getting to know the shirt of my father 

Who used to bring liquor for people just for five rupees for the sake of our morning tea.

It does not remain statistics of the reckon of the drop stains that time given on it.

There was no end to it walking beside the place where bier rests for a moment.

It was wandering with helpless skills and intellect...

Derrida could have done a deconstruction of that shirt which has various colors, holes

Because of Chilam (Hookah without pipe for cannabis), purposeless

And colorless stains even to assume "Nothing outside the text"