Arjun’s phone didn’t have a scratch on it. Not because he was careful, but because the thick rubber bumper he’d bought seven years ago had fused with the plastic casing into a single, indestructible brick. The screen was a little yellow around the edges, and the battery died if you looked at it wrong, but when he held it, he held his entire history.
That was how he saw his daughter, Meera. She was studying nursing in Pune. Every evening, rain or smog, he’d park his scooter under the same banyan tree, wipe his hands on his kurta, and open the blue icon. Facebook Lite Apk Android 4.1.2 High Quality