(.......contd) In the evening Grandma made an early dinner. She gave Babu milk and rice and also a banana as he liked them. She also added some vegetable curry because she said they were good for eyesight and strong children had to have good eyes. After she cleaned the dishes she took Babu outside to the parapeet and started washing his legs with warm water. Tommy, the dog, came and laid by Babu's side. The silence of the night was punctuated by the noise of the bugs in the bushes and the commentator on the radio which Grandpa had tuned to BBC Nepali Service. The news bulletin talked only about the Maoist insurgency that was getting bloodier and bloodier in the Western Nepal. Grandpa listened intently. A police inspector killed in the capital, a bomb blast in front of a senoir military official's residence, a journalist found with his throat slit and tied to a tree, three rebels dead in army cordon, several security personnel ambushed. The announcer's somber voice added undeniable sense of insecurity. Grandpa turned off the dial. "This country is going to pieces," he said. Grandma, still rubbing Babu's feet with a rough stone, looked up to him. "All this looting and killing...one cannot trust anyone. Hare bhagwan." The moon was shining the cobble-stoned yard in a warm hue. But it was quite dark where the yard ended and the bambooes started. Insects gathered around the lamp and Tommy snapped his jaw at them once in a while. Babu saw a moving star in the sky and pointed that to Grandma and Grandpa. Grandpa looked at the sky and said, "Oh, that is just a rocket." "What is a rocket?" Babu asked. "They are like aeroplanes. You can fly to the moon on them." Babu looked up again but could not locate the rocket but it could be any of the millions of shining objects in the sky. "Can I fly a rocket, Grandpa?" "Why not? But you have to be a good boy and not trouble your Grandma and me." "And not trouble Mother, right?" Grandma repled before Grandpa, "That too. No trouble to her either. God knows she has had enough already." "But I will be a good boy and can I fly a rocket?" "Yes, yes," Grandma said. "Now give me your other leg." By then Babu was tired of having of his feet washed. "Can't I wash the other feet tomorrow, Grandma?" "Now, whoever thought of having just the left foot washed? Don't you know what the night demon says?" she said. "What does the night demon say?" She raised her hands to her face and bent her fingers crooked and sang in a shrill voice, "Should I eat the clean foor or the dirty foot?" Grandpa laughed out. Facing the prospect of the demon Babu complied. Having washed the feet Grandma massaged them wieh mustard oil. Then she stood up and held down her index finger; reaching up to hold her finger Babu followed her up the steps to his bed. (......contd) (thanks killerbuzz, TMA and Kalekrishna and OYS and all ya'll.) mG.