I distinctly remember
that summer two years ago when Rajesh and I made plans to visit our uncle,
who owns a house in the countryside. It was going to be a surprise visit, and we
had decided to travel by train. Rajesh was my cousin's brother and the elder
son of my mother’s elder sister; thus, he was a year older than me.
Shankar
Sepal, our uncle, had retreated to the country house after the death of our aunt,
who had retired as a “Senior Editor” of our town’s local newspaper. It had been
five years since he had left for the country, and our visit, in a way, was to be
the first one for him.
That
summer two years back had been very hot and humid, and on one such hot
summer afternoon, the two of us packed our rucksacks and departed to visit our
uncle. In our minds, we were delighted to escape the city's heat for the
cool hills and to the huge house where our uncle lived.
However,
today, when I reminisce about that summer day two years ago, I find a few questions in my mind that remain unanswered.
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