“I shall remain thankful to you for the tenderness of your arms that held me when I wept onto your shoulder, and that held me throughout that winter, after every bicycle accident and every B minus. I discovered Bulbul that you could make everything all right, by blowing softly over scraped knees… but one such winter day, by which time our childhood heroes had become older men with ordinary problems, I might’ve confessed to being in love with you and you, in a moment of ruthless propriety, had pretended not to hear.’ ('Left from Dhakeshwari')”

“But think of me fondly right till the end. Think of me always as your brother's friend. Think of me whenever you see an Amrood tree. Think of me on cold winter nights.’ ('Left from Dhakeshwari')”

“I had wanted to hate you that day. Believe me, I had. And then suddenly, staring at me incredulously, your extra half-tooth had blurted out aloud, ‘You get dimples on both cheeks!’ your immaculate lisp intact, on both the ‘s’es. I remember that second, the way your hair fell, the nankhatais on my tongue and the strains of Akhtar’s melody in the air. I had fallen in love with you then. I miss that second.’('Left from Dhakeshwari')”

“When we were children, Bapi used to dress us up in the same clothes, going to Apsara for ‘Titanic’ or reruns of ‘Dadar Kirti’ and we used to be so embarrassed by that, even at six. Day before yesterday when I saw Neev and you wearing matching purple shirts, I encountered envy for the first time. You had taken on his colors, as though you were in his house already. I felt as though that moment you had stopped needing me to make you feel whole and nothing was ever going to remain the same.’('Left from Dhakeshwari')”

“In your rare embrace, sometimes I am lost nowadays. In these years, you have changed. I have changed. Every single day, we’re fighting our feuds silently; inventing devious ways to hurt one another. Our gazes keep to our feet: wavering, pirouetting and crisscrossing, so as to not stumble, even inadvertently, upon each other. Our windows look out at other windows looking in at us. Mynahs no longer come by in our balconies. Branches, not of a mango tree, but of a conglomerate, surround them instead. The silhouettes of concrete buildings sometimes shine in the rain's aftermath, but remain concrete. Today, as the Ganga rises and rages all over the city, people run for their lives, but I let it wash over my soul and flood my tears.’('Left from Dhakeshwari')”

“I had no eyelashes left. So when I cried, the tears rolled down, unabated to my mouth. My saliva tasted those days, like a salt lake. Or so he said.'('Left from Dhakeshwari')”

“I want to kiss your forehead; my love now is so evolved. I want to hold your hand and see all the little marks and nicks and find out how they happened. I want to assimilate myself in your identity, to have my existence intertwined with yours. I want to know what all stories still lie hidden in you.'('Left from Dhakeshwari')”