The One Package That Could Have Changed My Life
The year was 2010. I had just completed my PhD and moved to Paris for my postdoctoral research. Like many Indians living there, my weekends often revolved around one familiar place, Gare du Nord. For immigrants, places like Gare du Nord are more than railway stations. They become emotional anchors. You go there for Indian groceries, familiar food, Tamil conversations, and a temporary escape from foreignness. I used to visit at least once a week. Through these visits, I met many Tamil-speaking people from Puducherry and Sri Lanka. The Tamil from my region tends to sound more formal and respectful, and people seemed to like that. Slowly, casual conversations turned into friendships. One day, a shopkeeper introduced me to another Tamil-speaking man. We spoke about movies, politics, travel, and life in Paris. During the conversation, I mentioned that I would soon be travelling to India. His eyes immediately lit up. He asked me whether I could bring back a package from one of his friends in...