Bell rings. Girl opens door. Is startled at a brahmin clad in a dhoti, immediately closes the door to a point that she can only barely peek.
"You can't peek into a man's face and know his soul. I have just come to announce a religious gathering tonight at the ground, 7 pm onwards. Please inform your parents and everybody at home."
"Um. Okay. I'll do that."
"Have any of you ever been to shirdi on pilgrimage?"
"No not so far. Don't know. No no."
"It's okay to be startled. I know you weren't raised like a daughter at all in your home. You were raised like a son. You know that it's unwise to be trusting. It's good to have a clean heart, but you should never pretend to know the world."
"I don't even know who you are, and here you are standing at my door, telling me random things about me! You just told me i was raised like a son from my dress up. But let me tell you. I can call your
Mostly I brush life off my shoulder when it falls gently from a tree, or when it grows from my shirt like lint. Mostly i sigh it away like a laugh from an unfounded joke or a waft of extra air in speech. Except sometimes.