Our Moon has Blood Clots Read online

  In Kasauli: to Preetie and Rajesh Dogar, Sherry and Rajinder Chopra, Ashima and Iknam Bath—friends as thick as thieves.

  To Arundhathi Subramaniam, for faith that spreads like ‘the hum of crickets’; and to Hartosh Singh Bal, who knows what this book means to me.

  To my parents, Shanta and P.N. Pandita, who suffered innumerable hardships in exile for my sake; and to my dear sister, Bharti.

  To Anubha Bhonsle, for Moleskine notebooks, and for patiently listening to so many stories so many times over.

  And, lastly, to Sir V.S. Naipaul, for his eternal lines: ‘The world is what it is; men who are nothing, who allow themselves to become nothing, have no place in it.’