When I was in Delhi..., Okay wait. You people might be thinking why am I always stuck in Delhi. Delhi is like a piece of my heart. Now back to the point... When I went to Delhi for the first time, the time before my parents shifted to the family quarters alloted to the military men, we stayed in a small big room. Don't get confused because I said 'small big room', it was indeed one. Our kitchen, our bedroom, our T.V room, our dining room everything was confined to that small big room. We were five in number, my mom, father, grandma, grandpa and myself. Not even once we felt any discomfort, it was a peaceful and happy place.
Though I said it was a happy place, it was a little boring for an eight year old girl who had no friends until the entry of 'him'. Yes, he is the hero of this story. The one who gifted me 'n' number of gifts. The one who never expected anything back in return. I would forget anything about Delhi but not this man, not his face, not his smile, not his small dark room adorned with toys. Seriously I don't remember the day I met him for the first and last time but I do remember the days he made my happy. Our home, that small big room which we call our home was in the middle of a busy street, that is one of the reasons why my mom never...