I stood at the juice shop. I ordered some mango juice for myself. I was looking forward to the rich cool pulp skidding down my throat like it was some huge water slide in an amusement park. Some vivid imagination, eh? I waited. The shopkeeper was still finishing up his morning prayers (it’s a common sight in India…they start their day and their business with prayers) so I was aware of my wait. I sat down. Someone I knew from work stood next to me. He’s German, I think. I have seen him around but I haven’t known him. I smiled. He didn’t smile back.
“That’s rude!” – I thought to myself. Continue reading “Orange Juice”
aishwaryasivakumar 