Memoirs !!!!

She always had led a mediocre life – not too fancy, but not too boring. Father, Head-Accounts in a private firm and Mother, a housewife. Wait! Not just a housewife (she hated that tag), but a part-time tiffin service provider too. She had two sisters, both elder to her. In spite of belonging to a simple middle-class family, she was the only member who was overly pampered and promptly attended to. She loved her mother. She was a perfect epitome of a mother and a wife. Always calm and composed, impeccable with her work and dressed up gracefully (how much she was in love with her printed synthetic sarees!). She adored her Mother, but for one Quality -  Her head bowed down . Mother never looked up or into someone’s eyes, even when directly speaking. Even while expressing her anger. “How could she live like that?”  She would often discuss with her sisters.  “If I were in her place, I would have been dead with spondylitis already.” One day, straight after lunch, she summoned co...

He re-checked his boarding pass; it was indeed D7 window seat indeed.  But someone else was sitting there. He stood and watched. The man was immersed in reading a book. Aman cleared his throat and the man looked up. “I think the window seat is mine.” said Aman. The man stood up and came out so as to let Aman sit on his seat. The man sat on the aisle seat, kept his book away and extending his hand said, “I am extremely sorry I sat in your seat. I had to use all my contacts and twist a few arms in the bargain in London to get a seat on this flight. I was desperate to travel only by this flight, you see." "By the way, I am Dr. Kumar. Please call me Kumar I just mentioned my profession out of habit.” he said smilingly. Aman clasped Kumar’s hand and said. “There is no need to apologize doc. By the way, I am Aman. I prefer window seat otherwise I wouldn’t have asked you to get up” “Is this trip to India, a business trip or personal?” Aman asked.  “It is a very special trip. And,...