My Madhubala
I saw her daily in the morning when she woke up from her bed. I saw her as she got ready to go to work. Standing at the window, staring at her as she came to the window of her room in the opposite building and put her wet towel to dry out in the sun, was getting to be a ritual. But she never ever turned her gaze up to look at me. In fact, for so many days now, I had not seen her face; only her figure, as she carried about her daily tasks. Then she would step out, again her head lowered, and...