I speak to my mother, twice a day. Once, during my morning expedition to work in a shared cab, amidst a din of loud Hindi/ Punjabi music (a snooty friend once asked if I was in a very downmarket place!), five groggy-eyed people trying to take a nap in a Tata Safari, that’s thundering down the streets of Delhi at the speed of light, only this ride is bumpy and jerky, and not recommended for anyone with a bad back. On the bright side, it has an air-condition, which works. And the driver is a pleasant chap (by Delhi standards this is superlative).
I speak to mom once again in the evening, before I hit the sack. She wants to know how the day went, if I practiced driving, et al.
This morning, mama said excitedly,” Your horoscope has good things to say about you, today.” So, I asked her to read it aloud. As she looked for the morning paper, she said,” You know, I read only YOUR horoscope everyday, and when it is good, I feel happy.”
I instantly felt a warm, fuzzy feeling, inside. Henceforth, she will be reading to me every morning to me, on the phone, whilst Lassie messes about cantankerously, in the background, with her bottles and balls.
PS: I took the car for a spin after dark, and I realised that Noida is full of speed demons, in the evening, all racing in every direction. Banshees wail, as bikers honk, incessantly.
