Wednesday, March 7, 2007

First Day Jitters

She stared back at the nine year old in the unforgiving steel of the prison-like elevator. Carefully patting her freshly oiled braid, she adjusted the fragrant string of mogras. Her fingers trembled as she reached to ring the doorbell and she nervously smoothed her pallu while she waited.

Click.

"Mummy, new bai has come."

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