Just like an alcoholic’s tragic relationship with his seedy madhushala, my lonely nights had come to be punctuated by sub-standard meals at Kolkata U.P. Chats and Paratha Center.
As a woman, you are never entirely independent and detached; everyone has a stake in keeping your freedom in check. And they will never let you forget that.
It was no surprise, then, that I, like the rest of my generation, embraced the coffee culture with a vengeance. It was my way of telling tea to go to hell.