Ira Mehrotra The Town That Smelled of Salt and Silence The train screeched to a stop like it wasn’t ready to let go of Rihan Bose. He stepped down onto the sun-bleached platform of Kavar, a small town that clung to the southern coastline like a secret. The salty wind stung his skin, and gulls screamed overhead as if announcing his arrival. Not that anyone was listening. It was the kind of town where nothing ever really happened. And that was precisely the point. Aunty Kamala, his grandmother’s housekeeper, was the only one waiting. She waved half-heartedly, holding a paper…
