I am sketching a life of 1958-59. Mom was a beauty to reckon with, my dad obsession of her beauty was derided by his peers and relatives particularly the bloody fazilka abohar bastards and all the cranks of sirsa too; she probably was not sophisticated like you to negotiate the fine nuances of life. Kiran was telling me a good story but I believe if Navita comes in this house whether married or unmarried or in any bloody live in relation ship s if a bastard or a bitch even ever dared to think against her I tell you I will throw that filth out of my balcony. Mom used to make good food but no body ever allowed a slightest praise of her s as it was construed as if the bloody hegemony of the cranks may not get swayed away. I remember mom asked me to carry some sweets -home made and a cottage candle plus some match box and some burnable materials including a cotton based litting material. We walked our way to the river basin which was in lean period. I remember I could touch the smart flowing water as if your lips.
I saw mom was praying to the almighty so that her fields can be spared of the onslaughts of floods which were expected very soon within a few days so to say.
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