She didn’t remind me of them then, and I quite relished this languid moment of her abandon in the shadow of afternoon..

But revisiting this picture today, I flashed back to the nuns in St. Theresa’s Convent tucked away into the foothills of the Himalayas, guiding me through my sunshine years. L.K.G., U.K.G., Nursery…I was never really frazzled by any of it, but I seem to have preserved snapshots of their misguided frustrations somewhere in my woolen cotton memory- the hitting our three year old hands (knuckles side up) with age-hardened canes over the trivialities of punctuation. No mercy in their wooden eyes.

Goddamn nuns. May their souls find some solace at last…







  1. She’s even shaped like a comma. Thought that’s what you meant by the title at first until I read the post.
    Very nice Ish.

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