Friday, August 17, 2012

My girl.

Whenever I'm in the city I endeavour to make a connect with my girl. In fact, I look forward to spending time with her and it's always ensured that I'm not involved in anything official. I make it a point to square up all entrusted jobs before that.

This evening too I was at her doorstep much before sunset. I'd surprised her as usual but I prefer keeping my visits that a way because I do not want her to get into a frenzy, preparing things for me, I mean, things that I like. As I handed over a clutch of bright red roses to her, she was thrilled and muttered, "You're the only one who gets me flowers!" And that was the defining moment of the visit.

As I sat on the rocking chair, pulling it close to her so as to hear her clearly, she'd started to make a fuss over what I was supposed to be given and Anandi had got on to tea making. And as the piping hot cup of tea reached me, she showed her annoyance at the faire not being upto her standards. Pushkin, Thambi and Inji, the cat were observing me down to the minutest detail to find out as to who this guy was who was usurping their space.

Our talk session stretched for over a couple of hours with her peels of laughter erupting on every PJ of mine. And it was time for me to return for the evening's function.

She looked much better than what she did the last time I saw her!
She's 86 and diabetic.
She's Laila, my girl, as she continues to smile!      

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