Tiny hair story . Again .

  If you take a walk in the late hours of the morning , there are two advantages . One , you don't have to worry about the man-child you left back home ( for he is away at work ) , two , other people from other houses are gone too .

It gives you an illusion of peace , tranquillity and endless time . All of which , may I caution you , is again illusory . 

However , we digress here . 

It was a foggy morning . One can make out the faint outlines of trees . Chilly winter, hence caps and jackets . Hands are forced into pockets . In fact , I walk KGB fashion . Right hand in right pocket , firmly clutching the phone , which is  depression - prone enough to jump out of its cosy home , and fall on the hard pavement , face down . Several cracked mirrors later , I am cautious . So , today , I am marching like Vladimir Putin . 

  I hear a hearty "Jai Hind Saab ." I look around . There are no sahabs around . So it is me , the greeting is directed towards. I look away , cheeks burning .  I am no sahab and I refuse to be an imposter. An elderly DSC soldier mistook me for a sahab . He cautiously crosses me , trying to look me in the eye . Fathoming what went wrong with his missive . 

A little while later , I am inside the enclave , where in the servant quarters behind  an officer's residence , a little girl is washing her hair under a tap . Through the curtain of black , dripping hair , she wishes me " Good morning Uncle ." 

I am sure I have impersonated some uncle . Which one , I wonder ? 

A little way ahead , a small ball rolls and comes to a halt at my feet . I can hear the shouts of young boys in the foggy distance . Around four feet from me , in the centre of the road stands the batsman , bat in hand , eyeing the ball ,now in my hand . I used to play cricket in my childhood with my brother and cousins. I cartwheel my hands and throw the ball . It goes spinning towards the boys . Whoops of joy greet my delivery , as it cracks against the bat . I raise my hand and wave past . 

They thank me in unison . " Thank you Uncle " .