Sarada,who was six and a half decades old, was sitting on the floor staring at her hands.She could no longer sit on the hard wooden swing set on the balcony. Not wanting to disturb her, Smitha asked her if she was okay.
"Yes, I am fine, Smitha.Thank you for asking", said her mom in a feeble voice.
"Do you ever look at your hands"?asked Sarada.
Smitha stared at her hands, turning the palms up and down.It...
