The Fable of the wonderous Calcatian Chinaman.

For a long time I thought Paris was for the romantic pansies. Or the pansy romantics.
By the way, I have never been to Paris. I had read about Paris and seen Paris through the eyes of the dreamers. I had seen Paris when Patricia Franchini was selling newspapers on her streets. I had seen the Boulevard des Capucines in a misty snowy afternoon through the eyes of Monet. The Café Terrace on the Place du Forum, Arles, on a starry night. And the champagne and the wine, I know of. Most people, even those who have never been to Paris, I met, have had a picture of Paris in their minds which was as beautiful as a city can get.
Given a choice I did go to New York or Barcelona or Venice.
Now Lee, all he wanted in life was to be in Paris. No, Lee was not the hopeless romantic types, who would sit in a corner café, with a book and table wine all day long gazing as the pretty young lass working in the café on the other side of the road. Or maybe he was. It’s a pity we never found out. Because he did all his ogling bit secretly. Or that’s what we like to believe. The facade that he put up of himself, in front of us, was quite contrary. He behaved like the ruthless street fighters of the bad ass American underground. Put aside the hip-hop bling. He was for real. He wanted to fight. Fight to break, destroy, even kill if need be. Again, do not portray a leather-clad hefty 6 feet tall on a black Harley, sporting a mustache whose ends kiss his chin. No, Lee was rather soft looking human being of Chinese origin. Mandarin and Cantonese blood, was what Lee was. And a character full of contradictions, as you might have already noticed. All of us had heard of expatriate Chinese folk who sell food in East London or Queens. They become hair dressers all over the world. Some also become IT professionals in Uncle Sam’s band. Lee was neither. He was a musician who lived in Calcutta. And aspired to go to Paris.
But this story is not about Paris. It just one of those silly ways you refer to start coming to the point, just because you are supposed to be writing.
Lee landed up in Delhi, one fine day, looking for a job. And here is where our story starts. Lee and his paranoia.