2
On a fateful day last summer, as I dragged my soulless body homeward along the violet line, a sweet incident happened. Amidst the bustling crowd at the Lajpat Nagar Metro Station, a girl, in her exalting rush, unintentionally dislodged my wired earphones. Though her apology was accompanied by a sweet grin and a gentle adjustment of her left ear, my private Ray LaMontagne concert had come to an abrupt halt.As the girl settled into a seat among those reserved for female passengers, her apolog...
