Rajdani Express
My last night in India, I was invited to dinner at the house of Mr. Sen, whom I’d met a few weeks earlier in the overnight train from Calcutta to Delhi. Fifty-ish, wearing a neatly trimmed salt-and-pe...
Jolene, Jolene
Soviet, Taliban, that’s one of ours, Soviet again… In a monotone Aziz recites a litany, naming the rusting tanks and mortars littering the fields. We bump along in the car. This is what we do, I thoug...