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It was summer in Bangalore and no one expected strange change in climate. Traffic cleared slowly and Somehow I took a diversion which leads to my destination.It was getting dark, rain got worse and wind blew. I was wondering if there any chance that rain stops. Suddenly I braked hard, car halted as some one ran across the road towards the tree to take cover. It was not clear as it was raining heavily. I lowered my left window and was about to shout at that person, instead I was mesmerized by what I saw. It was a lady in a light pink shirt and blue leggings holding a shopping bag over her head to avoid rain. Yet it was vain. She was fully drenched, shivering and cloths sticked to her body. By her looks she must be in her mid 30’s.Instead of shouting I asked if she was ok. She didn’t answer because she was not looking at me. So I horned once she looked and I asked again, instead of answering she came near the car holding the bag above, bent over and asked if she could get a lift to her. . Dad, my younger brother (also Joe) and I would come into Brig’ton once a month to have a haircut – he had been coming here for years -Toni, an Italian friend would drink in his bar on a Saturday night -it was a logical progression…Dad liked to have a guid haircut – he would panic if he felt it touch his collar – he had naturally nut-brown wavy hair which he never exploited in any way – vanity wasn’t his thing. The entrance to Toni’s was on the corner of Landressy street and London Road – an art-deco stone frontage with a huge oak door opened into a tiled foyer with a long dark corridor punctuated by a kiosk halfway. a flight of stone steps curved in a hung spiral forming the roof of the glass kiosk. A lady cashier would sit at a till and take a ‘tally’ from the customer’s barber. Dad would always speak as we passed -‘hullaw there jessie…ah’v goat 2 we’ans wi’ me the day -ye mibbe cannae see frae up there,hen’ ‘ah see fine, Joe – are ye gettin’ them scalped again or jist a wee trim,.
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