Dravida Seetharam·Aug 21Two Rides, Fifty Years ApartEvery Sunday, Mallikharjun’s car is outside my gate at seven-thirty sharp. No horn, no phone call. He waits, the engine idling, until I…
Dravida Seetharam·Jun 19The Sun That Would Not SetThe clock on the hotel wall said eleven. The window said afternoon. I stood between the two for a long moment, not quite trusting either…
