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“Every once a week, I come down to the Haat bazaar. Here I can meet my old friends, strangers, shop owners and merchants who know me by my name, by my story and by my character. I do not have to introduce myself. But at home, it is different. You see when old age grips you, your children become strangers. The things you say go to deaf ears and you start talking to yourself. But that is fine, life is like a bus, you hop on and you hop off. You meet people during your ride. But sadly, sometimes the bus falls off the cliff.”