saw them. “Vaidehi…”
I lifted one bag and placed it in the hallway. Then another. Then the lunchbox I had packed that morning. Still unopened. Still full of parathas. I placed it on top of his shoes.
His face twisted. “Don’t insult food.”
I looked at him. “You insulted the hands that made it.”
The hallway went silent. Neighbors had opened their doors. continue reading …
