“There you are. Go on now. Your father is waiting.” Mother was sweeping the floor. She rearranged the newspapers spread open on the glass table top before her, and replaced the dry flowers from the china vase with the freshly plucked ones. She recovered a lonely torn blue sock from a web of dust; it had made home the dark corner under the sofa. “I am wearing the purple trousers today” I informed as a matter of fact, and left the house to explore the paddy fields. The farmer had turned the motor pump on; it was time to frolic under the gush of the voluble hose. When we moved into the new house, I was very happy. The new house was bigger than the previous one; its six rooms were furnished with deco art and they were nothing short of opulent. The great arch in the hall with its gilt beaded chandelier was an eye candy; the violet gauze curtains ruffled in the breeze throughout the day; our reflections on the impeccable polish of the cold marble floor followed us everywhere. Around the ...