The Last Look
There she was, standing in front of the house most of which was now in ruins, admiring it and reminiscing the childhood spent there. It was her ancestral home. Miraculously, it stood exactly the way it was before the renovation. The wooden stairs, the jharokha in the makeshift porch on the upper floor, the cozy rooms, the narrow long kitchen on the ground floor and the whiff of nostalgia. Innumerable memories flashed through her mind. The days when her mom used to leave her under the care of grandparents when the nanny was on leave or a festival or maybe a simple occasion which was never less than a grand festival for the family and people there, the birthdays which began by a mandatory visit to the elders of the family in that house. Though it was not much, it was a home which beautifully connected the older and the new generation with love, warmth and laughter. She could visualise her grandfather with white fluff of hair, sitting in his chair and watching tv and discussing cricke