What’s the number? 115?”“I think it’s 116. Hurry. If you’re not up there in a half-an hour, I’ll come looking for you.”“Give us an hou.... We’re slow walkers.”Fatima returned to the slums, which she thought she had lost. She made a break towards the East. A small line had formed at the water pump. Men held empty pails. She praised her bulging stomach for a defense against the cat calls. As the trail grew narrow, stirring with children, naked and dark from the sun, Fatima arrived at Mama Khadija’s. Now this was the first of experiences what I am narrating is a true one. Now it was a matter of 2 years back that we used to meet and sit across in the park were we used to spend some good hot time. One fine day it so happened that my parents both of them were out on a pilgrimage to Nasik so I was all alone in the house. My girl friend just called me and I told her that I was alone in the house and she could come over to my house for which she agreed. Now it was around 7 in the evening when she. More

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