Circa 1993, a splendid corrosion of old identities dissolved at a business school the mindset of allowing new ipseity to harness itself took me to my new evanescent dream which was never to be a cursory stealing glance from her through my accounting notes was enough fodder for my anticipation somehow lead us to exchange our phone numbers and the first call was missed as I was away, attending the “beating retreat”, a celebration of the republic it was a joy of the superlative kind can’t manifest here, in few words the news of a phone call was full of a beatitude Delhi was never so beautiful the next wintry day made me see a girl in shawl over few cups of tea over the terrace of an old building, a makeshift education space I scatterbrained myself, off balance wore a black sweater matched with her black shawl traffic flew by the time g
verses and conflicts of the soul