Even a few Engineers hang up their gruffness and circle uneasily among the guests in the Grand Foyer. The Concierge, back at her post, the best seat i... the house, checks her watch again. “Good thing it’s good weather,” she thinks, “or he might be even earlier than usual.” Every time the elevator dings, there’s a noticeable drop in the chatter. As a guest emerges toting a suitcase, a sigh floats across the great hall like birds released in a cathedral. “He’s getting old,” the Concierge thinks,. This story was submitted to me by one of my readers, Zaheer from Bangalore. I’m specifically saying in beginning itself that this story is no way related to me and no details of my reader or his family. I’m narrating it in his personal perspective so that it’s easy.I am Zaheer (name changed), 22 years from a well to do family from Bangalore completing my degree. This story is about my elder cousin sister Arshiya. Now I’ll tell you how it all began. I’m including all the details and hence may be. More

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