Kamal Prasad Mishra Chapter 1: The Ride Begins The night air in Chandni Chowk clung to Amal like a memory he couldn’t shake. August’s monsoon rains had dried, leaving behind a warmth soaked in the scent of old spices, frying oil, and time. It was past midnight, yet the city didn’t sleep — it simply sighed in quieter breaths. The streets were damp with leftover life: a chaiwala still pouring from his kettle like it was a sacred act, a woman arranging wilted marigolds on a cart, and a cow that blinked slowly as if it knew secrets older than…