Get me more Choglet

Achha, I was reading this blog of a junior of mine, and I want to clarify: haleem at Aliyah is NOT like sexual satisfaction, it's miserable. Haleem is palatable only when A's baba cooks it. Neither is it great when you eat it from the stalls outside Statesman House. You merely keep feeling suspicious what it is you are sending down your gullet, and the meat is not good.

And this, also from her blog:
"In college they're playing a corridor cricket series. And I wake up dreaming of jstor. Disconcerting, that."
It's something that someone who has not been to JU will not know. As I will not know of the peculiar spots of closeness that other people have with other places they love, centres of learning, to be specific. That renders it plebeian, but it's not the point really. It's so about memeories: roddur on the balcony, and chilly, dry empty afternoons when one was at a loose end.
Y'know like that song by the Chandrani woman in Krosswindz: Oi dokkhin khola janlay. And the melody is kind of let loose somewhere in the middle of the song, and it rises to the sky where it goes wherever you might want to take it.
It's something the boy wouldn't know, something Oli knows and values exactly like I do, if not more. A yearns for it, perhaps, but she wouldn't change things, C is in a hurry to move on from there. And yeah, after a little more'n a year of work, I wish I woke up dreaming of Jstor too, as corridor cricket seen from outside the classroom.
The dear dear place, how nothing can duplicate what you left behind. It's like leaving your mum.

We had lunch at Sabir today, the boy and I. And as happens so often these days, it remains inexplicable how it turned out so good, how suddenly it all became so pleasant. The light flavour of the firni, my happiness over his liking the mutton, his undivertable love for chicken bharta. And I suspect we both enjoy good meals. That he likes the taste of boiled meat, and I like it grilled, with the woodsmoke lending to the taste. And how it was like we had been living this way for years, as we walked back. I suddenly found I was walking with my hands together behind me, and he was quietly talking, and I could anticipate the pauses. And I wished bye bye, and left.
The silence.