Jagjit is a point-blank poet and a compulsive photographer. Trained as an engineer ("which is not education, but a conspiracy by intelligent machines to enslave humans"), he later moved to Humanities, travelled across the length and breadth of India like a missionary, flirted with activism and labour politics for a couple of years, and like a true Kashmiri scorched his hands at all the rebellions. These days he's home: day-dreaming, evening-drinking, night-writing and morning-sleeping. When asked what went wrong, he replies "everything, except literature." An aspiring Proustian, he believes words will make sense of all that's been lost and shattered.