The books say it’s about 11,000 millimetres difference, but I’d call it the distance between a soaked notebook and a parched throat. I went to Mawsynram with my best khadi jacket—it grew fungus. In Jaisalmer, I carried the same umbrella, and the desert sun laughed at me until my didi sent aloe vera gel. So the real difference is in the regret of packing wrong, twice.
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