Chapter 14When the auto rickshaw stopped in front of the house, its distinctive phut-phut-phut revving to a last phruut and dying away, Lakshmy Mittal knew that Lilavati had come. And she wondered again why she had offered to help. This should have been a restful evening after a particularly gruelling week at the Allahabad High Court.
phut-phut-phutphruutLakshmy twitched the curtains aside. A young girl, clearly a Non Resident Indian by the way she carried herself, was stepping out; she could see a pair of dusty Kolhapuri sandals and jean-clad legs emerging from the rickshaw. The girl was sweltering – the dark blue of the jeans and her tight T-shirt were sticking to her body. But beyond it all, she could see the girl’s outlined youth.
Lakshmy turned away from the mirror in the hallway. L
