Barinishtha

It's hot these days, I need to walk and keep walking until I can quench my thirst. I walk up to a soda stall and say "Ek nimbu masala" -- I like my soda how I like my friends, refreshing and a bit 'chatpata', and yet unwanted on occasions.   Anyway, I sit upon the bench waiting for my drink, While I see a mother come around and sit in front of me. She was with her child and she looked very well off--Fair, tidy, neat and skin taken care of. Her hair in a bun that was tidier than my braid, her fingers so fragile like all the house work is done by a maid. Her child too was dressed neat, in a uniform red-and-blue. He look like an elite, wearing a pair of sunglasses too. Even after so much pomp, she sat in front of me, No class, No judgements, just sheer melancholy. She seemed rather approachable, and I had a word with her.    She didn't seem too overprotective, like the parents these days, or even me, for that matter. If I was a mother I'd want to keep my chil...