Miss Panna (Cont.d)

"Very well then.", I said. "Were you always inclined towards modelling?" "Haha. Maybe. Intelligence isn't something everyone is blessed with. I was much prettier than all other girls in my school, I knew that. And for me, fruit engineering wasn't very appealing. So,I went ahead for a photoshoot and the magazine editor of Fruit Cosmopolitan liked me a lot and cha ching! I had begun modelling at the wee age of fifteen." I frowned at her pride in her beauty. Sure, she was beautiful but picture perfect? Nah. She had a splash of freckles across her face and her nose was too sharp for my liking. Her eyes had a mischievous glint in them and her hair was too good to be true. I realized that the camcorder's battery was getting over and I had to finish my interview fast. But alas! My mother had come and she got into a big catfight with her, regarding the looks. I tried to calm both the ladies down, but each one was raging like a wild bull left open. Finally, amidst the brawl, Miss Panna slipped and fell down! I heard her piercing moans as she had broken her arm and the cackling laugh of my mother at her victory. Poor Miss Panna.

And, that just summed up how a mango is treated by Indians during summer.