Radhika Sehgal 1 The window of the Konkan railway train was half-open, letting in gusts of salted wind that tangled Ankita’s hair and stung her tired eyes. She didn’t care. She had left her sleek Bangalore apartment with the bed unmade, the inbox unread, and a message to her agency that she was “on a sabbatical for mental health.” It wasn’t entirely untrue, though she didn’t owe anyone more than that. Her body still felt wired with city static—thumb twitching toward a phone that now lay dead and buried in her canvas bag. Gokarna was a dot on a map…