I was walking along the streets of Kolkata one day, when I saw about fifty people crowding around a street vendor.
“What’s going on?” I asked a kid who had just made his way out of the crowd.
“The Puchkawala uncle is giving free coupons. One plate each.”
The kid showed me a paper-plate that he had folded into his shirt pocket. On the paper-plate were two lines, written in Bangla:
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Minakhi Misra 