So much for chain of thoughts. I just took out my Berkeley shirt from the washbasin. The green mark won't go away from the white shirt. A mark I put on it as I celebrated my first touchdown rolling without any reason on the green green grass. A trinket seller in Berkeley, who had his stall next to where I had bought the shirt, told me about Lalu and Indian elections. He gave me his card and promised to call me regarding Dalai Lama's visit to Santa Barbara - he never called. A trinket was taken from his place; a peacock feather in the form of an earlet found its way to my friend's hands and then to K. Writing on Walter Benjamin today, and hearing Kabir Suman mentioning the grammar of words in heart gone wrong, I remembered the trinket seller again and looked for his card, I had lost it. So this blog.
