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And since her parents were around are usual hug was missing.We sat down at the table and uncle aunty asked me about my parents…from where I was…what were my future plans…this..that..normal talk. After the lunch I decided to take a leave..I bid goodbye and left and told Urvashi that I would see her at the school tomorrow and when her parents were not looking..she gave me little peck on my cheek. I went around to my friends place from there and spent some time there, when I was leaving.I realized that I had to return a book to one o my aunts and that I had forgotten the book there at Urvashi’s place…so I went back to her place and this time Urvashi opened the door. I told her that I forgot my book here and she was like her parents had just left since they had to go attend some function, and then when I was leaving…she asked me..’Hey..you want to stay back for sometime..I’ll show you my room and stuff’ i said ‘Yeah sure…I can stay’ So we went back up to her room and she was showing me. A longshot, she was right in her intuition to go to the open house. Not expecting to see him, Mr. Mozilo was sitting on his veranda sipping coffee. He looked just like his picture on the internet. As if he was an Arabian king, with his greyish, white hair framing his face, he was so tanned. ‘Mr. Mozilo. Hi. I’m Jennifer and this is my son, Michael,’ she said continuing to scale the steps as if she was scaling a tower to present herself at the sacrificial altar. Never shy, had she been born a man instead of a woman, with her big brain, confidence, and outgoing personality, she would have been more successful in her career than she was. Only, it was a man’s world and all the players who ruined the economy were men, old, white men. All the players who brought Wall Street, the banks, and the insurance companies to their knees were mostly elderly, Caucasian men. He looked up from the newspaper he was reading to give her a look as if trying to recognize her from somewhere. He stared at her.
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