O Dear, Dear, Pitaji, O Dear, Dear, Lord, a countless, countless thanks! It is 10:30 am. Pitaji is well and happy and talkative. “Mujhse kitne saal chhotaa hai ye? Ye giraa hai – ya pranaam kar rahaa hai?”“How many years younger to me is he? Has he actually fallen, or is he bowing down on his knees in prayer?”Pitaji is looking so innocent as He asks this question. “Masaahibe dauraan, umar lambi“Oh, the sufferings of time, and an age that is long,Pitaji says:“Abhee bhook kaa “My appetite is still weak. The sight of the food should be such as to excite hunger–not to stifle it!”He was referring to the routine tea and biscuits we had been taking since years for breakfast.“Kal chalne se bahut faayedaa huaa thhaa! Aaj bhee chal lenge.“Walking was of great benefit yesterday. We shall walk again today.”Finally, just before putting the newspaper down, He asked me again about the Vice-President, sympathising with him:“Huaa kyaa, thhaa isse?”“What had happened to him?”