I haven't forgotten you. Blame the world for conditioning us to become apathetic to most any kind of stimuli. We probably sense a million "Once upon a time" sparks every day but we let them die. I do. Which is why the words won't come, stories don't get written and everyone trudges through their feeds without satiating their hunger pangs. It's been the kind of month that went by in the blink of an eye and yet seems to be made of nothing but endless moments. I made a work trip to Madras... because I speak Tamil. Ever so often, I'd get puzzled looks from the locals because what came out of my mouth sounded like something they understood but they couldn't quite tell why. "Where are you from?" they'd ask. "Pune" I'd say, trying to believe it because those of us in this peculiar situation are often unsure if we belong anywhere. In folklore, Narasimha straddled the doorway, one foot on either side, supremely confident in the ...