Shed no tears for Agarwalmart

Twenty years ago, I worked for a financial services outfit in an old building off Lalbazar Street, in the heart of the Eastern metro. Downstairs, shops sold clocks, umbrellas and musical instruments. On the floor above, there was a shipping agent & chandler, established by an opium smuggler in the 1850s. The courtyard behind was the headquarters of an establishment of negotiable affection.

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