The Westland office is above Evergreen Sweet Shop and Madonna Beauty Parlor. Diwali orders, presumably, had the sweet shop in a frenzy of cellophane and sugar that spilled out onto the street. The doorman of the beauty parlor opened the door as soon as the three of us approached, sending my self-esteem to a new low, but we all did laugh at that moment. It was a moment of triumph too, that it was the office of my publisher I was going to and not the beauty parlor.

Meeting Prita, my editor, was not like a first meeting at all. It seemed as if we had met before during the writing and finishing of POL. But I did get my promised hug in person which is not possible in email.

Our driver’s cell phone does not work, but he says “Radio, bluetooth, hookup, receive”, words that make me look at him in awe and delight and tell him that we are not so hi-tech in America.

I tell him we didn’t see any elephants that day, and he says “Maybe you will see a camel tomorrow.”

Prita and Me

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