half-girlfriend-chetan-bhagat

I spoke to many of those present, but felt little connection with any
of them. I stepped away from the crowd and sat on the sofa. I took out
my phone to look at the pictures I had taken during the day. I had
taken some inside MSG.
‘You watched a Knicks game?’ I heard Priya’s voice from behind
me.
I turned to look at her.
‘Yes, I went today.’
‘Nice pictures. Can I see?’
She sat down next to me. I flipped through the photos.
My phone vibrated. A message from ‘Erica,Tribeca Nation singer’.
'Checking out the Jazz and Music Fest?' the message flashed as a
notification and disappeared.The phone screen went back to displaying
pictures again, ‘Next?’ Priya said as I didn’t touch my phone for a
minute, ‘Priya, just a second. I need to send a reply,’
“Oh, sure, I will get a drink, Not for you, though,’ she smiled,
wagging a finger at me, I smiled back, I composed a message for
Erica: I leave Monday. Almost packed. At my farewell party now.
Thanks anyway. :) She replied: Fly safe. Ciao. :) I looked up. I saw
Priya engrossed in conversation with someone at the bar.
I shut my phone and placed it in my jacket pocket. I then realized
that I was still carrying the brochures Daisy, the old lady, had given me
outside Madison Square Garden. I read them one by one.
‘CATS—the longest running Broadway musical,’ said the first.
‘Blue Man Comedy Show—combining music, technology and
comedy,’ said another.
One of the brochures was a sixteen-page thick, A5-sized booklet. It
said ‘New York Music and Jazz Festival Weekend'.
The room lights had been dimmed, making it difficult for me to
read the text. I shifted iny seat closer to a candle on the coffee table.
‘123 performers. 25 venues. 3 days. 1 city,’ it said on the booklet cover.
The booklet opened with a two-page spread of the schedule of
performances. It was arranged in three tables, one each for Friday,