No, not a coach to have taught Hitler to paint better, though I do believe if he’d had one to show him how to paint houses better, he would have been the richest house painter in Austria, and the world would have missed the dastardly deeds of a despicable despot!

It was a week after the funeral. She had buried her hard working accountant husband, who had painstakingly worked from morn till sundown, risen from clerk to bank manager, sent two children to college and jobs abroad with the income, and given her a comfortable life style.

Trust us for coining words that haves no parallel. “Give me a missed call!” I told my American friend as I left him at his hotel.

 “A what?”

 “A missed call!” I explained.

This morning as I looked out of my window, I saw a scooterist skidding. No pleasant sight as the bike rattled like a helpless animal and the rider fell heavily to the ground. Luckily, he was wearing a helmet, but the box he was carrying in the rear flew in the air, and burst open as it hit the ground.

Horrorstricken, I wondered, had it been a pillion rider, what could have happened?

 “You can’t park inside the compound!”

Priya stopped backing her car into the vacant space, next to her building and looked at the angry old man who was standing behind, blocking her way, “Who are you?” she asked.

 “I am the secretary of this society and you are not a flat owner; you cannot park inside the compound!”