Cycle of Cliches
When Papa and Mummy left, Ma told Jaanvi, “You know Maina, I am in love.”
Jaanvi was, kind of, stunned for a moment, conscious of the fact that she was looking at a sixty one year old woman. That the woman’s big, brown eyes were the most beautiful ones among all women she had met so far, didn’t quite matter. Neither did the scalp full of grey hair or the wrinkles in her face. But her age did, in matters of love. Jaanvi couldn’t see through her words. So, all she did was give a smile, that meant nothing more than a dry acknowledgement of what she had just heard.