Musings at Mori Road

From the time I can remember, Vandana and I had grown up as neighbors. Our apartments were on the same floor and she lived across the passageway. However as we grew up, I became conscious of the fact that she was differently abled with respect to her speaking and mental faculties. I don't even remember the time when I stopped interacting with her and as I grew up I had almost stopped noticing her.  Every time we met in the stairway or downstairs, I used to look down and walk briskly past her in an effort to avoid any interaction - and I am not sure why I did that. Vandana lost her father more recently and her mother was completely bed ridden with illness. Every time I walked past her, I thought about the life she led but then like most Mumbaikars, I was almost an expert at shutting out such thoughts at will. I did not know how to speak to her, what to speak on and like everyone in this city believes, rationalized that I had no time to spare.  It was the evening bef...