Confession

So I've become a serial killer. Yes, that's right, that's what happens when you send a mild-mannered girl like me to Kolkata. Every day I walk the streets, searching for my next victims: I seize them two or three at a time, stuff them in plastic bags, bring them home, tear off their skins and devour their flesh. Mmmm.... so good!
In case you're actually worried (hopefully no one is), the names of my victims are chikku, orange, mango, banana, guava, etc. There really is nothing like an Indian mango: I had my first yesterday, and it was akin to a religious experience!!! My favorite new fruit is chikku, which looks like a globular hairless kiwi on the outside, and like it's rotted on the inside. But it tastes sooo sweet, and even obligingly separates itself into sections at the slightest touch.
Oh, and the other day I was walking down the street when I saw a fluffy white dog sporting a black bindi in the middle of its forehead... so amazing.
Okay, I'm off to commit more murders. Muahahahaha....