My life is punctuated by fleeting encounters with what feels like happiness.
Whenever something seems to look (feel) like mirth,
I sit with it and have a chat
over a cup of chai
in an undisturbed corner of a café or an obscure roadside stall.
As time passes, the tea and the conversation start to lose their taste.
It almost always turns out to be an imposter.
Embarrassed by this exposure, it hurriedly gets up and leaves me
with the dregs of woe. And although I am used to it by now,
a part of me still gets disappointed
that it never even splits the bill.
-Basundhara Jana
Third Year
English Hons.
[Edited by Risti
Art Curated by Naina Sarma and Shreya Jathavedan]
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