The Distant Joke
Chapter One The backwaters of Alappuzha stretched out under a sky the color of bruised iron, the canals choked with the rot of the harvest and the thick, sweet smell of wet earth. It was a place where the water did not merely flow but pressed against the banks, demanding entry, and the air was heavy with the promise of rain that had been held back for three days. Ravi Siddiqui stood at the edge...
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