Chuchu, watching Delhi boys on TV, I think of my son in that city. He tells me even the *thewo* (betel nut) seller outside his hostel knows his name now, and that is a kind of belonging no committee can plan. The road outside my garden is still mud, but the red roselle flowers know their own market — they open when the sun tells them, not when someone prints a schedule. Asü, that is the way.
#delhi#localbirdcalls
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