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Lobo Lobo and the stolen cup

“Now tell me why you’re running like a mad person, dressed in a football jersey, holding a large silver cup in the middle of the night?” I enquired

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Illustration/Uday Mohite

Illustration/Uday Mohite

Rahul da CunhaIt was midnight, and I heard a big thump on my door. “Hey men, Dikuna, open fast no men… hurry up ya men, chhe… chal chal chal chal…” 

I opened the door — my cable technician, Lobo Lobo, stood at my doorstep, out of breath, sweating, his jersey sopping wet. Most unusually, he held in his arms a large silver cup. 

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