Dehradun, Nov. 30 -- Author

The last time I saw her was on an autumn morning, when I was eleven, on my way to Allen School in the Bala Hisar area.

'Hey, boy! What's your name?' asked a raspy voice.

'Ganesh, ma'am,' I managed to mumble, adding 'Saili!' as an afterthought. You could cut the sudden chill that descended with a knife.

'Are you that Mukand Ram Saili's son?' the voice, from above the road, demanded.

'Yes, ma'am!' I sputtered.

'Isn't he dead yet?'

I let the storm of emotions pass.

'No!' I assured her. 'He's fine.' With that, I took off down the hill with my schoolbag thumping on my back, louder than my heart.

Returning home, I told my father the story. Throwing his head back, he burst out laughing: 'Must have been that o...