A tap on my shoulder and as I turned around he asked me “Do you remember me?” It was the evening before Mahalaya and this time it was even more special. I was back for the Pujo after a gap of five years but flet like a lifetime of being away. “How are you sir?” he asked again. It has never been my strength to put names to faces and it is even more embarrassing when the person greeting you seems to know exactly who you are. Mori Road was busy and bedecked like a bride for the Navratri festival to follow. In a few hours the Goddess would arrive to the beating of the drums. I managed to put on a sheepish grin to acknowledge his presence. “I am fine” I muttered as I tried to match his face to just anyone I might have known over the years. He was a short gentleman, well endowed around the middle, with a perfectly rounded face that was well complimented with the light reflecting off his gleaming scalp. He wore thick rimmed glasses and had a smile that would endear him to anyone includi
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.