The maratti woman came to my house next week and knocked. But I told her that I like to have hair grown in my pits and I do not plan to go sleeveless ...veryday. She was gone with a sullen face.I felt pity towards her making a living by shaving other women’s pits. It looked a pathetic job to me, so out of pity I used her service occasionally and I gave her food which was left balance of previous day’s dinner. She expressed her gratitude and told me that nobody had given her food from our flats. “Are you okay?” Simon asked from the doorway.“No.” I opened my eyes. “Not really.”“She really loved you.” Simon came in and shut the door. “At least you’ll always have that.”From the way he said the last, Simon was struggling as hard as I was. “She loved you, too. In her own way.”He nodded and sat next to me on the bed. “And I loved her.”“I know,” I whispered. “I could see it. So could she.”He sniffed and wiped his nose. “It was hard to watch you with her, but I could tell you made her. More

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