The thin shell of warm air clinging to my body blew away with a gust of wind, pinpricking my face with tiny grains of ice. Even my scalp tingled: afte... decades of feeling hair brush against my shoulders, I’d decided to crop it very short just ten days ago. The blond stubble that remained had proved practical in summerland heat, but disadvantageous at altitude.Carried on another gust of wind, a high, mournful cry echoed against the rock around us and down through the valley. Its source hidden. ‘Humney lunch nahi karaa. Accha mujhe batao tumhey kya pasand hai, mein tumhare liye banaoonga.’ He told me he liked most things, and we settled on parathas and egg bhurji. I put on the cricket match for him and went to the kitchen to cook. I am a good cook and was soon back with a tray of food for him.As he lowered his hand, I caught hold of it. ‘Tum aaraam se match dekho. Mein tumhey khilaaoonga.’ I was full of love and devotion to his manliness in the moment, and I fed him the food. Once we. More

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