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	<title>Karabi Mitra &#8211; Litbreak Magazine</title>
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	<description>No Poem Is the Only Poem. No Story Is the Only Story. No Kings.</description>
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		<title>It All Began in a Crowded Market</title>
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		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Karabi Mitra]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 25 Feb 2020 14:40:26 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Essays]]></category>
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					<description><![CDATA[I trailed closely behind my grandmother as she strode confidently through the crowded lanes, trying desperately not to lose sight of her bright orange sari. She was heading to the jewellery store, and I knew that I was in for a boring afternoon. The gold necklaces and earrings which fascinated her to no end somehow only made my eyes glaze over.  ]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>It&#8217;s Fiction, Of Course</title>
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		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Karabi Mitra]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 24 Feb 2020 12:10:00 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
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					<description><![CDATA[I felt a sudden sense of shame. Along with the many things I had bid goodbye to over the years, had I also lost my identity? I tried to shake off the feeling and convinced myself that I needed some more time. I glanced at my grandfather. Thankfully, he was oblivious to the internal dialogue I was having with myself.]]></description>
		
		
		
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