Tape

This cassette tape was in the broken glove box of our taxi driver.

“He looked after us like an Uncle; ferrying us from Colaba to Film City, from midday to midnight, and always off meter.
A kind man, wise to a fault on the city, he’d moved to Mumbai in the days before Partition – witnessing firsthand all the changes I now want to explore. But like a TDK cassette in an MP3 city, running out of relevance to most of the people he meets.” – Ed King

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