Simon looks on nervously from behind the half open door. “Are you just going to stand there?” I ask, a bit too fiercely. “Sorry.” “Stop sayi...g that!” “What?” he asks. “Sorry! It makes no difference. Just come in and shut the door.” I am, by now, just about in control of my emotions. Enough to be able to string a sentence together. Simon comes further in through the door and closes it behind him. Like I was, he is dressed for a funeral, so I suppose his parents must have brought him. I don't. Whenever I used to pass by she used to wish me saying Namaste Sir.Now first let me discribe both of us to u. To start with the girl , well her name is Sapna , a dusky maharashtrian,about 5 feet,with not so slim figure,I mean every pound was properly placed.At hospital the H.K staff used to wear white and blue saree along with dark blue blouse.I dont know how she managed but her clohes were always properly washed without any stains caused due to her nature of job.That was one quality I liked the. More

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