Sunday Story 22: Sampangi

THROUGH THE SQUARE window of the kitchen of Babai Hotel, Sampangi looked out at the seating area. Babu Ram was taking the woman’s order, and he didn’t seem to be in any hurry about it. She waved her arm in that urban way of hers, and tilted her head just so, in order that her hangings glinted in the afternoon light. Her legs were crossed, of course, underneath her maroon-coloured skirt that came down to her ankles. Just the other day Sampangi had dreamed of this woman and Babu Ram dancing in...