This piece is a real life account and has become longer than I intended it to be. But, I did not feel like skipping anything. The story is a dedication to my father
Editor’s Choice: I am the last bench of my class. You can call me Bestie. A student had once scribbled on me, “Last bench is the best..!”
Story of the Month May’14: I held his left hand. He understood my touch more than he understood my words I suppose because he replied keeping his hand on my head,
As a child I spent my afternoons, cuddling in my grandmother’s lap, under the mango tree,Both my grandmother and I eagerly looked forward to these afternoons of intimacy.