There is this girl who is a help to my mother, from a
village nearby
When I thank her for making me a cup of coffee she laughs
and says why do you keep saying thank you, frustrated at my propriety and words
of appreciation that she feels is no not needed (remember the film – meine Pyar
Kiya? No thank you, no Sorry? I line often echoed by my riding mates )
Complement her on a dish well made in the meal her reply
She: I know it is
well made
ME: how do you know?
(I hear arrogance)
She: You always tell me, what I cook is good
Wonder who is better off? Me with my education and good manners
or she with her practicality.
Here is a portrait of hers as she goes along her routine, am
as candid as I can be, BUT when I share this image with her, she replies: you
are a photographer you will take my picture, well aware I had Photographed her candidly.
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