I have made my peace with this place. It is fine. I have met some people who are nice. I have my group. I won't think about you. You who can crawl to Chayer Dokan after a day at work. You. And You. I love the food here. I love how there are no mosquitoes here. How I have wide footpaths. Pruned shrubs all along the way and archways of more pruned shrubs to change lanes while walking. I love the Tangri Kebab at Punjab King. It is a two minute walk away from the ATM which is a two minutes walk from my room. Asma I don't think of you any more. I don't think of you Spider Man, you who are dusty from hanging on to a pole in front of a dying New Empire and a flourishing KFC. I only read the Calcutta pages on The Telegraph and TOI everyday. I know you are alright. With every passing day I hear rumours that grow dense with despair. It becomes increasingly clear that I won't be returning soon. Anyway. Not that it matters. Not that I would let it.
At night I close my eyes and I am walking on Park Street. How are you?