Heading to the East in order to study it meticulously with some queer satisfaction. She looked at him blankly as though his words have never hit her eardrum. She picked up a pen and started filling in her information in the guest book, her mind and body not quite aligned. His face had an expression of attentiveness, of listening to something as solemn as a confession. My boy remained silent for a moment and then asked with genuine curiosity.
People are weak-they are attached to places.
So I detach and withdraw. They stick there and they don't run away to pursue some chimera, some individualistic end. I smiled, feeling consoled. And that pursuit is an end itself. I had a strong impulse to drag her by the hair and throw her out of the hostel, forgetting all tenets of civility and hospitality.