Bill, bill, junk, … not for me, not for me, … bill, not for me. This happens in a hostel where people shift from one room to the other considering...some comforts. By the time I finished, the ‘not for me’ pile was almost as big as my pile. Mine mostly junk mail or should I say all private banks showing their love concern and wishes to a client like me who hardly use the credit it cards. Out of the shower, still drying off, semi naked just a towel around my chest which din’t do the job well, I. He still had cake all over his face, which had to be washed before he hit the bed.He was in the bathroom, taking a shower when the door-bell rang. At first, he didn’t notice it, but when it rang for the second time, he hurriedly headed to the door. Someone must have forgotten something, he told to himself as he put on his shorts before answering the door.He opened the door and was completely surprised. It was Kasthuri who was waiting for him outside. “Kasthuri! At this time?” he asked, partly. More

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