Home,At last

What was that again? Josh squinted in the merciless sunlight. A sign that said in a variety of scrawls…”Ramanand Rao-(“A cuer for the incueribals-homeopathethic doktor with hypnatics and reversel of blake maggic”). He was riding an “auto”
-a kind of a modified tricycle that honked and blared with a hideous cacophonic noise.
Yes, he had passed by the same “market” at least twice before. He had no clue about the
viciousness (literally akin to the “vicious cycle”) of these swindlers…
The man was crazy. He kept ranting on in a language that he called “Inglees”
The “auto man” was gleeful alright (at leading the lamb to the slaughter) through the narrow alleys. Josh wildly gesticulated at the blithering idiot and put on his most authoritative voice and ended up yelling at the smirking, smug Autowallah.
They had reached a nook .It was a dilapidated building. Ah! There was the lodge
That said (in the by now familiar variety of scrawls)”Shanthi Niketan”
He jumped out and was immediately accosted by a motley crew consisting of an amply endowed lady dressed in a saree and a huge pattern on her forehead. She smiled obsequiously and greeted him with folded palms. ”Mrs.Chawla” she said in a lilting, heavily accented tone. Nearby was a man that was obviously the male equivalent of an Indian Ayah. He bowed low and grinned. He wore a dhoti and had a towel over his hagridden shoulders. He closed his eyes and simpered again. There was a pooch juxtapositioned which seemed to be the only silver lining in the proverbial cloud. It woofed and wagged its tail.. He bent down and patted the mutt and was rewarded with a wet, sloppy lick. He had reached home.
To be continued…