A gust of wind rushes into the house, the curtains flutter and with it they bring strong smell of summer, of mangoes and lemon juice. Small noises can be heard from outside, children shouting and playing cricket, moos from cows chewing their cud in the shade. The hall is filled with aroma of sweet delicacies and freshly made pakodas. The table is set, the table cloth fluttering under the fan, as the people around the table chat happily. A small child maybe 7-8 years old can be seen playing with a toy car at the end of hall.

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I am running to school again, the rain made it hard to move swiftly and not fall. This blasted rain has made me late again and now I will have to wait in the office before being let in. The whole building is shrouded, not an inch of it is visible and I can see nobody, neither a teacher nor a student. This is weird, the school is always open.

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