The day we buried Janette you were standing there. You were wearing your tuxedo and everyone had asked me to speak up on behalf of my sister but I was not in a state to speak anything to anyone lest in front of all those people. They were friends and family who had been seeing us since even before we were born and now my sister was lying under the ground in an ornate coffin with a gilded lid. It was black box of teak which Janette had designed long back when she was in the hospital and while her surgeries were going on. She had thrown them away once she had come back home but I had taken them back and then carefully preserved them not because I wanted her to remember something that bad but I wanted my self to recall that there was a time when we all had thought that we had lost the first d
