Seeing the cars slide on the Chikmagalur gravel, I think of my clumsy weaving fingers when I rush – too much speed, and the pattern goes ai! My uncle’s old radio, where we follow the Dakar for two weeks, crackles like tyres on Coimbatore tarmac. I calculate costs like my bamboo prices; a whole season must feel like a hundred *khoh* baskets.
#theme
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