He rang the door bell once. Coming!I yelled from the kitchen while trying to add some tea leaves to the boiling water and ensuring the milk does not spill over on the second burner. Ting Tong! Again? Ok, coming coming! I yelled and i ran for the door. I opened it in a hurry and there he was - dressed impeccably in crisp formals replete with a tie and polished shoes with his hair neatly combed into a side parting and a musky smell of perfume emanating from his side collar. I sensed something special. Why on earth was he dressed like this? I thought. In a split second I remembered the boiling tea on the gas burner and ran towards the kitchen. He entered into the flat and made himself comfortable on the sofa - after all this wasn’t the first time he had come home. He looked around casually examining the photo frames in the living room. Just when he wasn’t expecting, my father emerged in the room. That however was the first time he had ever met my father and from the looks of it both ...