It was just another working day for Ranjana. After preparing a vinaigrette leafy salad and olive oil parathas (Indian bread) for the health conscious Jay’s lunch box which she packed every day with great diligence and making sure her son Parth had completed his homework before sending him to school, Ranjana changed into a simple chikan(embroidery type) white salwar khameez, grabbed her floral jute bag filled with some important papers and walked out of her house, heading towards her clinic which was a few blocks away from their residence.
She unintentionally dressed like that, almost every day of the week, for that was who she really was.
“It isn’t a fashion parade,” she told her secretary Tripti who had once asked her why she wore something literally off the streets when she could easily afford every possible luxury brand.
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