Losing my way inside the archives of the British Museum. After concert backstage with Darren Hayes. Black coffee at the table where Auden would sit. A cold night of longing in the Tundra. A Masai ritual and a community dinner. Autumn evening in Vienna. A Christmas Mass in Transylvania. A standing ovation at a poetry reading. Seeing a flash-flood from a hilltop. Sitting by the grave of Ghalib, his couplets in hand, waiting, invoking Assad to rise. Singing the club Anthem at Stamford Bridge. Wind in my hair, Shahid Ali in my veins and Jhelum at my feet. And, hearing an old love say she missed me all these years.