Finally, near the temple, he met an old man who had slipped on the wet stones. Raghav helped him up and said, “Hold my shoulder, apne pitaji (father).” The old man’s eyes glistened. “I lost my son last year,” he whispered. “No one has called me ‘pitaji’ since.”
He ran back to Amma and hugged her. “You were right,” he said. “‘Apne’ turns strangers into family. It makes the world less lonely.” Finally, near the temple, he met an old
Raghav shrugged. “What difference does a word make, Amma?” near the temple