I developed a taste for words a little late. That happened only after faring poorly in the language and working on myself that I became an avid reader. We had preferences, so we amassed volumes in our homes. Some were those we had borrowed, the ones we forgot to return, others were second-hand or the new edition we either purchased or were gifted, and a few were even our professional textbooks. The pages had begun to crack, and a distinct moldy smell emanated. The once treasured books now occupied only space, and their regular maintenance was a menace. After my father passed away, my mother offloaded our home from the clutter, and first in line of fire were the books. Those prized possessions came down from the first-floor balcony onto the floor. An unassuming raddiwallah collected our priceless belongings of years in his sack for a paltry amount. My friend shared, advertising on Facebook, the free sale of her Encyclopedia Britannica after she became an empty nester. The story was tha
Newerways: Life after Dentistry.