Its the story of one such Amma,
And naturally the affable, hopelessly honest Threadman,

Amma walks in everyday with a spring in her feet-she greets a loud goodmorning' which is still a surprise in this part of the land-

and what follows next is childhood revisits all over again: Amma is constantly on the lookout, a keen observer, as she sweeps the floor, she slows down, its one tiny room, but Amma can take longer on this one-she steals glances constantly to see if Threadman is done.

Threadman is always reading, an act that baffles Amma, afterall, whats in there that he reads and she is missing out-is it a secret place, is it just a fancy story, but it cannot be the truth-that is Amma's realm.

The same meals to be cooked, the lack of variety, pushing a pack of reluctant kids to school, the tiffin for the husband,the scramble for water at 4 in the morning,and by the time the day breaks, its time to visit the houses-nothing could possibly be more real, more true than this for Amma.

And yet she looks, she fidgets, takes a little longer, waits a little more, finally Threadman does look up from his books-she waits for him to close it entirely, get up and take that stretch that his body has been craving-and his gaze falls on Amma-this is it, the opportunity for Amma.

Amma is overflowing with a cascade of seemingly unimportant conversations mixed with the local gossip and future plans to sell her share of the land and get her eldest daughter married in style: she dare not imagine, but would Threadman grace this occassion with his presence?

Threadman smiles, gently, knowingly and tells her she's getting late for the other houses-just before Amma leaves, she turns around and tells Threadman that she just loves talking to him, he seems kinder than a lot of the other babus she works for.