Mohan settled down in his usual place near the traffic signal. He looked up and realised she was still there on the other side of the road. He averted his eyes quickly though not before she had shifted her gaze too. It seemed that neither could face each other – the little girl in a worn down printed dress and the one- armed beggar. The father and the daughter. He willed her to leave but knew she would be there till he was done. It was the same everyday ever…
The King’s Offering
