![]() The spines of the notebooks came apart as he plonked them on the table.The yellowing pages fanned out between us.The pages had handwritten text, mostly illegible as the ink had smudged. And now here we were in my room as he pulled out three tattered notebooks from his backpack. ![]() ![]() ‘Just give me five minutes, sir,’ he had said, following me into the lift. We were in my room at the Chanakya Hotel,Patna.This morning, he had tried to stop me on my way out.Then he had waited for me all day I had returned late at night to find him sitting in the hotel lobby. Being a writer on a book tour doesn’t allow for much sleep-I had not slept more than four hours a night for a week. ‘Listen, I don’t have the time or patience for this,’ I said, getting irritated. 'They are your journals, you read them,’ I said to him.
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