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Epilogue: Papads, Projects & The Next Promise๐Ÿ’

The rain tapped lightly on the tiles of their small, imperfect but filled-with-love house in Baroda not far from where it all began. The Sunday clock chimed 4 p.m. The smell of elai (cardamom) chai and fresh coriander chutney wafted in the air, and yes papads roasted on the open flame in the back corner of the kitchen.

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AuthorAnu

I write โœ๐Ÿป loyal,witty,rebellious men and empathetic, innocent yet strong tenacious womens ๐Ÿ˜Ž