I even feared that my mother could try something sinister like attempting suicide unable to withstand the indignity of her son witnessing her act of i...fidelity. While I kept squeezing my brain repeatedly thinking about the sequence of events again and again, my mother stepped in after gently tapping the door. Her saree was wrinkled while her blouse exposed he bra strap on the right shoulder. She sat beside me on the cot and glared at me tilting her head. I reciprocated her stare as I was fuming. That’s right; I was divorced a year ago. But I was in no mood for marriage again. After my divorce, to get out of depression, I started teaching painting in my friend Isha’s apartment. Painting was my hobby and was pretty good at it. With my friend’s advice, I started this painting school.But I had the classes only the evening, so during the day time, I use to help Isha. She had a small designer boutique. She was the one who helped me to deal with my divorce. She was very modern, were as I was. More

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