Jajabor

Jen's Hancock

I am back in Kolkata, flooded with memory and emotion. It is overwhelming; I only find comfort in the handful of Tagore songs I carry in my heart. I stop myself from crying just as soon as I have to pick a reason for my tears. No one feeling fully describes it – I am overjoyed and heartbroken, exuberant of change and petrified of it at the same time. But the damp Kolkata air hugs me, its monsoon comforts me. Still, my heart yearns for the rampant shores of Lake Michigan – I am a vagabond with attachments.

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