I have no mobile and the only cabin is across the Ganges, in Ramjhula. I must borrow a phone from my Irish friends at the café to call him. Matt answers like he knows who I am. Like he knows what I’m about to say. I confirm that I am who I am. ‘Alright,’ he says, ‘We can have a chai.’ Which is what he said last night. It is a phrase with a particular freight of meaning. It’s a small but key component of existence, having chais with people; people who turn up. I go and wait for him…

Luke Sheehan

Writer and Editor from Dublin, working from Shanghai since 2014

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