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The gate of the big village house opened. The old woman sitting on a cot in the courtyard turned to see who had come.

“Swyam!” She got up with alacrity, put on her chappals and rushed to her 14-year-old grandson. He touched her feet in greeting. She blessed him, kissed him and asked how had he come so suddenly?


“I’ve come here for my summer vacation, daadi,” Swyam said.


“Really? And you’ve come alone!” She was impressed. “My little boy has grown up!” She beamed and patted his head. “But I could not have imagined!”


“Yes daadi. I’ve always been so sullen about coming here, haven’t I? I was a child then. I only worried that my friends would call me a rustic if they discovered that I belong to a village. I never thought about your solitude. This time, I am going to stay with you for the whole month.”


Daadi was just so happy! “My grandson has come to end my desolation,” she ran to tell the women in her neigbourhood. “He cares so much for me! See! My family cares for me!” She felt so rich, so loved!

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