by Debasish Mishra Wei Ding From the vague signpost of memory to this tiny station of time where the train of life doesn’t bother to stop I was/am obsessed with English Speaking it was/is a luxury a sign of one’s education the very science of knowing When I was a child with brown skin and white hopes, the foreign alphabets in hardbound books and bright colourful paperbacks with the promise of a choklet accent grew over the chalk-clad roots My dreams were in English too: soph