“Then I looked again at the picture and saw where her fingers were, and I knew. Or thought I did even if I didn’t want to believe it, Michael.”�...�Did you tell your mother about what you’d seen?”She shrugged.“No. I’m not sure why. Maybe I thought she knew about this somehow and wouldn’t be happy to find out I’d seen the picture. Maybe she’d be more loyal to my father and wouldn’t care. Or more loyal to him than to me.”“Do you think she knows?”“I don’t know, Michael. Yes. No. Probably. If she does. She wanted some help to shift a cupboard from one room to another in her flat. I went to her house. At that time neither did I have any expectations nor I had any feelings for her. But my mind was stuffed with fantasies and stories I have been reading for days then.It was a sweaty summer afternoon. She was drapped in her saree which was thin and with the slightest sweet would stick onto her body. I couldn’t find a sexier diva to fulfill my fantasies. The light grey color saree, sweet patches. More

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