"The train journey brought back the hopeful, depressing trips to Kalina to see Narayan, and he felt melancholic; finally he'd understood what life was like, the meetings and partings it entailed. It was a thought that only made him more attached to his life and the people in it. From his window seat he looked with hungry eyes at the dirty worlds next to the tracks: the brightly painted shacks, the grubby faced children, the ugly concrete tower blocks, the smells. It was his city, his world; it might be imperfect, but it was home."
From Saraswati Park by Anjali Joseph