[whitesilhouette]

There was a time when we were facing daily blackouts. I was less than 10 yo. All families would come out in their respective courtyard during such times.

During one such instance, some people came to our neighbour's house. (Later I learnt they belonged to the coal mafia. And those guys had come to threaten him. In a very gentlemanly mafia style. With guns and all.) We were sitting on our stairs, counting stars and constellations (another one of my father's pastimes those days that got me interested in astronomy) and had a vantage of height to observe the whole thing. My father, for some reason, thought of indulging me. He took me on his lap and told me that when people converse, words don't matter. What matters is their intention. So it's very important to read between the lines. And to factor in the context and their role in it. He went on to explain the various intricacies of that conversation to drive his point.

That day, I lost my innocence.