The Blue Jacaranda
I was your maid. You remember me?
The one who used to tie your shoelaces and make the chapathis and that potato curry for you? Pack your lunch and escort you to the bus stop.
The school bus would come to our street corner somewhere around 8 am daily.
Your smile, as you wave goodbye, asking me to be there waiting when you get home in the evening.
You had a loud voice.
In case you feel like seeing me, do come over. I stay at The Jacaranda Old-age Ashram. No 18, Queen's Lane, Pune-411009.
Ask for Shalini bai.
Everybody here knows me well and they know you too. I keep talking about you to all the inmates. I posted a similar card to you a year back, but I'm thinking it didn't reach you . . .
restless night . . .
turning and tossing
as the ache sinks deeper