The Adulterated Existence
Sunshine
Caught in the Rain
By the time, I could delve anymore over this thought; Dadu was there with the steaming cup of chai. I firmly embraced my cold palms around the hot cup while one of these little ones picked up a seemingly old guitar from their grandpa’s shop and began strumming it to “papa kehte hain”
Finally came the most awaited question – how, when, who and whereabouts of the guitar. Nandu, the one who was playing it, sat beside me and spoke in a hushed voice – “This Saahib (gentleman) from Dilli (Delhi) drops in once in a while and teaches us these songs. He even gifted this guitar to us. At times he stays with us for a few days, and helps us with our studies as well.”
Finally came the most awaited question – how, when, who and whereabouts of the guitar. Nandu, the one who was playing it, sat beside me and spoke in a hushed voice – “This Saahib (gentleman) from Dilli (Delhi) drops in once in a while and teaches us these songs. He even gifted this guitar to us. At times he stays with us for a few days, and helps us with our studies as well.”
The Sound Between My Ears
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