Shelly Poole

Journals found

My uncle, Dheeraj, once found a notebook. It was left on the train. He flipped through it, pocketing it for the lovely coloured pencil drawings of familiar places he found inside. He couldn’t read it, of course. The writing was in English and he barely reads any Hindi, but he took it to the headman in our village and found out that an American was traveling through the area and staying in a village nearby.