Sharmaji’s Cottage was beautiful. The green bush that welcomed you was fragrant with blooms every spring. The red oxide sit-out was where the neighbour’s liked to gather in the evenings, to chat about life and curse the government, as they sipped on Sharmaji’s wife’s perfect cup of tea. How had he got so lucky constructing such a beautiful house, on his modest bank salary new people often asked? ‘I paid for this roof over our head with my wife’s dreams, my children’s childhood and my time which I should have spent with my family’ Sharmaji smiled wistfully as he answered.
Pic Courtesy : Deepa Gandhi
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