“There would remain no sign of you ever having played in this house. Your childhood is going to be swept under a camel-skin rug and elevators are going to be built over the lake we once swam in. This address,… — Kunal Sen Copy Share Image
“That was our first home. Before I felt like an island in an ocean, before Calcutta, before everything that followed. You know it wasn’t a home at first but just a shell. Nothing ostentatious but just a rented two-room affair,… — Kunal Sen Copy Share Image
“I had wanted to hate you that day. Believe me, I had. And then suddenly, staring at me incredulously, your extra half-tooth had blurted… — Kunal Sen Copy Share Image
“Baby, I bear remnants of you on my body, on my soul. I always have, I always will, gladly. I just want you to… — Kunal Sen Copy Share Image
“For feverish mornings after he left, she lay awake in that guest room in their house, in the rumples of the sheet he had… — Kunal Sen Copy Share Image
“She taught me how to wear a Tangail saree, she taught me Julius Caesar. She taught me how to deal with the pain of… — Kunal Sen Copy Share Image
“I shall remain thankful to you for the tenderness of your arms that held me when I wept onto your shoulder, and that held… — Kunal Sen Copy Share Image
“Most of what we got was crockery: from exotic crystal bowls to ceramic anomalies. Then, a cross-section of rugs- from a beautiful Kashmiri original… — Kunal Sen Copy Share Image
“I want to kiss your forehead; my love now is so evolved. I want to hold your hand and see all the little marks… — Kunal Sen Copy Share Image
“When we were children, Bapi used to dress us up in the same clothes, going to Apsara for ‘Titanic’ or reruns of ‘Dadar Kirti’… — Kunal Sen Copy Share Image
“I had no eyelashes left. So when I cried, the tears rolled down, unabated to my mouth. My saliva tasted those days, like a… — Kunal Sen Copy Share Image
“Back then, come July, and the blazers would again make their way out of the steel trunks and evenings would be spent looking at… — Kunal Sen Copy Share Image
“At eighteen, she already looks like a woman of sorrows and as her breaths start becoming shorter, tired of looking over her shoulder, she… — Kunal Sen Copy Share Image
