The December chill has set in most parts of the country and Kanha was enveloped in a blanket of mist and fog which made me wonder if we had done the right thing by landing on Kanha’s gate at 7 in the morning.
“I want to marry you,” calls out Anne.
“Er, I’m already married,” I reply.
“So?,” she asks with a shrug of her slim shoulders. “What’s the problem?”
“There is no problem,” I reply with a flattered grin, “I just need my wife’s permission to marry you.”
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