Thursday, October 16, 2003

Warm light on a dappled corner. Hindi film music in the background and shadows in the wind. Lyrics that are as familiar as the scent of incense in the air. This then is what I am made of. The taste, the smell, the feel and the touch of decades of humidity, heat, wind and ephemerality. How then can I not go back? It is a country of artificial borders, manufactured identity and constructed cultures.....

So am I darling, so am I...

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