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Inhaling sharply, I boarded the yellow-green monster. So this is how sardines feel inside the tin. A sudden lurch followed. The paan-chewing uncle grabbed that moment to help me in my battle against that nagging itch on my back. 

Kaku! Thanks, but I can scratch myself,” I hissed. 

The altruistic kaku grinned at me. 

As commuters rushed towards the door, I rammed my bracelet-laced hand into his wrist. The grin turned to a grimace as the sharp edge gleefully found its target. Feeling like a victorious Bengali after procuring a hilsa from the Padma, I alighted from the Bongaon local.

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