Innocence

I used to give tuition to these two cute and intelligent kids, a ten year boy and his older sister, when I was just fresh out of college.

We usually sat in the veranda of our home, which was enclosed with grills and painted a quaint blue; an extension of our tiny living room but it afforded us some privacy especially when guests were around.

One evening my heavily mustachioed, youthful looking dad rushed in suddenly  and grabbing his parked green Bajaj scooter by it's handles, he made his way out of the house through the wide open doors.

After exactly five minutes, dad's younger brother, an exact replica of him, (he lived with us then), also made his way out holding on to his bicycle.

The front gate was shut again with a clang; the little  fellow seated in front of me looked up at me with wide eyed wonder and asked ever so sweetly, "Aunty, you have two-two fathers?"