Our Friends in Good Houses
Neel is a journalist drawn to war zones. It's in these spaces riven by conflict that his sense of dislocation, of not belonging anywhere, drops off him. At all other times, he's in quest, seeking solid ground: a home. It is a pursuit that takes him halfway across the world to America and back to the urban dystopia of Delhi.
Is Neel—haunted by the past and exiled from the present—likely to find what he desires in ephemeral associations? Will he chance upon the quiet anchorage he seeks in short-term dwellings and the objects he gathers within them-coffee percolators and rugs, posters and penknives? Or is the home he so badly wants elsewhere? Not in the noise and blood and lust outside, but in some sanctuary within?
Neel is a journalist drawn to war zones. It's in these spaces riven by conflict that his sense of dislocation, of not belonging anywhere, drops off him. At all other times, he's in quest, seeking solid ground: a home. It is a pursuit that takes him halfway across the world to America and back to the urban dystopia of Delhi.
Is Neel—haunted by the past and exiled from the present—likely to find what he desires in ephemeral associations? Will he chance upon the quiet anchorage he seeks in short-term dwellings and the objects he gathers within them-coffee percolators and rugs, posters and penknives? Or is the home he so badly wants elsewhere? Not in the noise and blood and lust outside, but in some sanctuary within?
Original: $33.52
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$10.06Description
Neel is a journalist drawn to war zones. It's in these spaces riven by conflict that his sense of dislocation, of not belonging anywhere, drops off him. At all other times, he's in quest, seeking solid ground: a home. It is a pursuit that takes him halfway across the world to America and back to the urban dystopia of Delhi.
Is Neel—haunted by the past and exiled from the present—likely to find what he desires in ephemeral associations? Will he chance upon the quiet anchorage he seeks in short-term dwellings and the objects he gathers within them-coffee percolators and rugs, posters and penknives? Or is the home he so badly wants elsewhere? Not in the noise and blood and lust outside, but in some sanctuary within?
