ADMIRATION OF FLOWERSSM. and Mrs. Chopra lived in the bungalow, four houses to the left of us. Their pink bougainvillea hedge was always meticulously trimmed and the lawn was always free of dog poop. Mr. Chopra was a stock broker, a rich one if the neighborhood aunts were to be believed. Ms. Chopra was the daughter of a wealthy businessman and I had never forgotten that. I had always considered Mr. Chopra an outsider. Maybe it was his hunched shoulders or his constantly shifting eyes that never quite met yours, but whatever it was, the first impression was of a nervous temperament. Most of this story revolves around a park. A park, you say? Yes, a park. There was nothing extraordinary about this park. In fact, you can still see them all over the city. The upkeep was paid for by the local politician (who lived next door) and no dogs were allowed. In the morning we saw the aunts jogging, with their flabby arms and thundering thighs, and the young people of the neighborhood, the rich and the servants' children, all played wonderfully together. Things had been particularly tense at home that summer. I was a single child and a little eccentric, if I may say so, and the park had been my refuge. It was right across the street from the Chopras, and Ashish (the Chopras' son) and I had spent many hours there. Back then, Ashish didn't chase any short skirt that came his way and I was not a loner but one of the coolest. Anyway, (because this story is going slightly off the rails), it all started with Rita's arrival. And who is Rita?Let me explain.Rita was a distant cousin, as most Indian relatives are, but my mother apparently owed her mother something, so we were obligated to be respectful and. ..... middle of paper... ...entered the park and sure enough, Rita was there. Just as I crossed the street, I saw Mr. Chopra coming out of his house. He wore a three-piece suit in the humidity, a bouquet of red roses in his hand. My curiosity was piqued. He looked in my direction and I instinctively hid behind a neighbor's car. Luckily he didn't notice me and there was no one in sight. As if emboldened, he began walking towards the park. I followed at a safe distance. Chopra stopped abruptly and with a snort of disgust, threw the bouquet away, turned around and went home. As soon as he left, I ran towards the park entrance. The sight stopped me. Rita was in the arms of a well-built man, laughing and smiling like there was no tomorrow. The man then released her and took her face in his hands. He turned suddenly and the recognition seemed clear to him. It was Ashish..