So here I stand, a bridge between a Bollywood rain song and an Albanian mountain ballad. My heart sings in two imperfect voices:

Kuch kuch hota hai isn't an event. It's an atmosphere. A shift in the weather of the soul.

But what is this "something" that happens?

And më tërheq shqip — that is not just attraction. That is direction. A compass needle spinning once, then stopping. North is now the sound of rolled 'r's and the word "bukur" for beauty.

Më tërheq shqip.