thinksdhiraj

Part I I remember last summer I celebrated Ramadan in the quietness and unnamed comfort of home. I got married just months back and was on a job that asks the surrounding of a computer table along with the internet and my night's quietness as their time-zoned entrapment in dollars wanting to be converted into rupees. I was happy, the way a happy prince thinks in his homely adjustments and in the prospect of future adventures. It was just months after my marriage and my long-time friend, now companion, was slowly becoming aware of her surrounding. The newly built room was her place of exercise, of thought and action, and she rarely reaches out to the locality and I ought not to think of her doing so as she lacked ennui to be vocally outright rather she missed irrevocable anonymity called a city. For people in the villages are ever watchful of your comings and goings. I held her understandably care for the Muslim households that befall the nearing poverty of the bidi makers back in o...