Salma, my cook, pounces on the opportunity to talk whenever you enter the kitchen. So no wonder she started again when I came in this morning for my breakfast.
There I was, pouring my cereal, making the right sounds but barely listening to her tale of relatives caught in an accident, till she said – jaane waala to aata nahin hai na didi. I stopped in the middle of heaping Waheeda Rahman’s muesli into the bowl. So true.
And it ain’t just true for the dead.
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