The name is Nafia. She is resplendent. Her stare is as shining as the sun when it sets in the sea. Ahhh....those beautiful eyes....and her smile....oh...god...men will die in desperation....Her hair, Summer-short, yet shining...Sometimes, she comes to our home....She likes being with us....Brings along with her a big-bucket full of happiness and a stunning smile that illuminates the house in entirety.
Always wears a T-Shirt and a short skirt or a petite trouser. Slightly chubby yet charming. Lazy. Otiose. An example of innocence at it's extreme best. She always likes to stay with us on weekends. Though her Mom is our house-owner, it's still mattered dime a dozen for us. We just had a ball!
But these days, she is not around. Her mom is preparing her for an interview it seems. Yesterday, as luck might have it, I got a chance to listen to her, preparing for interview on D-Day. Her mom was busy stuffing an almost rotten-roti into her throat but she is even more busy in making a desperate attempt to recall the answer to an important question. She seems tense as it appears to be the FIRST interview of her life. I peeped across the window as she spills it out, one by one. A...B.......C.....
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