Letter from Korlai

In a quaint village on the Indian Konkan coast, in the time of yellow grass with steps receding and prayers unanswered, a desire for oblivion forks the search for images of exile and belonging. In a quaint village on the Indian Konkan coast, in the time of yellow grass with steps receding and prayers unanswered, a desire for oblivion forks the search for images of exile and belonging. In a quaint village on the Indian Konkan coast, in the time of yellow grass with steps receding and prayers unanswered, a desire for oblivion forks the search for images of exile and belonging. In a quaint village on the Indian Konkan coast, in the time of yellow grass with steps receding and prayers unanswered, a desire for oblivion forks the search for images of exile and belonging.