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Thursday, June 27, 2013

the "immigrant" sob-story post

There are days when I wonder if Kolkata is a real place.

If I had ever walked its streets.

Or, is it just a ghost city that exists only in my memories?

And then, I open a novel or a short story collection or a book of poems in Bangla. And the city continues to exist. Again.

I haven't gone home for almost four years. So, I write about it obsessively.

I am beginning to feel June is getting away from me. Baari Jabo. 

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