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He often went to his colleagues’ weddings, funerals and other ceremonies. When someone tried to pull his leg about not being married, he would say, ‘I’m married to this city. Where’s the space for another relationship?’
It began to distress Satyajit that the man had given him the daughter’s horoscope as naturally as leaving a load of laundry to be ironed.
This life in the marketplace – perhaps its nondescript familiarity compelled people to share private matters only with strangers. Or was it that this city did not treat anyone as a stranger? True. The lakhs of faces one saw everyday seemed familiar even when seen for the first time. As though one knew the story behind each face.
