I donno whether it's Christmas eve or whatever, my Mom said I need to wear leather gloves when I drive/ride. I'm not entirely sure which one she meant, because she just said 'gaari chalanor samay'. Hmmm.
This time last year, Sabir went all the way to Bombay to get a leather jacket sewn from the world-famed tailors at Dharavi. He wanted a B-52 bomber jacket (for anyone wondering what that is, Google's gonna be handy. I like clothes, but not that much to actually take printouts to show my tailor.) As it happens, the tailors fucked it up: made something that looked straight outta Govinda's wardrobe.
So Sabir went to Bombay again. This time, with the assurance of his uncle, who's a big businessman in that big boomy city. And this time, the tailors gor it right.
He had also got those leather gloves from Dharavi on that trip: a pair for Shweta, him, and myself. Very cool gloves. But it's not that cold in Calcutta. Yet.
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