Monday morning and the week began as usual. Most of the days in my rush to office I am on a conference call during the drive. This morning was no different. It was drizzling and Mumbai was just about waking up and getting ready to go to work. As I got connected to the conference,my driver eased the car onto Mori Road. This morning was special as I was going to meet an old friend from the UK on the way to work. Engrossed in the call, I was unmindful as we pulled up at the red light near Mori Road. A light tap on my window. A familiar face. Wrinkled with age, a toothless grin, her “pallu" over hear head, holding a walking stick made with a makeshift bamboo. She had been a part of Mori Road for years, and in all my years of growing up, I never thought she looked any different. It was as if her look was timeless and to me she must have been born old. More recently, to give her an identity, I had christened her “Khokoner Maa” (Khokon’s mother) given that she usually has
My balcony overlooks the most interesting street in the world - Mori Road. Everytime I stand there I see a new dimension of life. These are idle musings that I want to share. All of you are welcome to read this and more importantly share a cup of tea on my balcony.