Having set out for Southern India for no apparent reason nor out of any manifest need, a few days after an appalling natural catastrophe, a man chanced upon a place called Mullur. As the days passed, what should have been the first leg of his voyage began to detain him, as though that place had a will of its own, and its own project for him. But is a journey that ends at the first leg still a journey? And if not, was there perhaps any other more suitable name for what happened?