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By The Outsider at 11/10/2009 - 18:07
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Sitting on the porch and smoking a cigarette as I watch boats drift by on the Hudson, the mind if sometime captured by old memories. Not that those memories have anything to do with the Hudson or a cigarette, but you know how the mind some time wanders aimlessly.....or do you......maybe it's just my mind. The trail would start from the ash falling on my hand in the breeze as I impetuously shake it, make itself through an incongruous chain, if there is such a thing, and end up in Lucknow.
I would be shadow batting on the roof of our ancestral home in temperatures rising upwards of 40 Celsius after having fooled Amma that I was taking my afternoon nap. There was still homework to do, but that was never too much of a problem. A couple of hours in the evening was usually good enough.
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