“He came in. He looked around the apartment — the small apartment with its sea-sliver view and its single-person kitchen and its double bed and its walls that I'd started decorating (a print of a Husain painting, bought from a gallery in Kala Ghoda; a photograph of the Gateway of India at sunset, taken from my phone; Karan's baby shoes, now mounted in a shadow box because some things from the old life deserve: preservation, and the preservation is not nostalgia but: honour).”