Bengali folk songs, which have their roots in rural Bengal and are inspired by Sufism, often talk about another entity that lives inside each human being. Poets lament about never seeing or fully understanding this entity. Being the uprooted person I am of a busy metropolitan, I have never been very spiritual; I have never felt sure about the presence of this entity. Sometimes, however, I feel it lurking in the shadows, hiding behind everyday objects. Who is this person? Where is the rest of her?