Learning Hindi in Paris

Hindi-Zahra-5The world turned azure, and amidst boozy banter and the ruffling of denim, you were there, alone, bidding the night farewell. The once-teeming theatre was pouring itself out onto the back alleys of Pigalle, and under a burning, bright bulb, you sang a song – not of darkness and disgrace – but of strange, ephemeral beauty. Gainsbourg’s grasp tightened, and I was slowly led away, reluctantly, watching you recede into that from which you emerged.

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