India After Eight

Paces quicken Gold chains around necks Are quickly hidden Footsteps become silent Less sure of themselves And more desperately trying to get home The judging begins Of every station, every bus stop Is it too empty? Too quiet? Are the men walking too slowly? Auto rickshaw drivers’ Faces get looked at harder Would he rape […]

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I mean, it’s so very nice of you to come, indeed.

Well, I’m glad you feel that way.

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