The uncle whose shortcuts are never short and always legendary.

The gentle elephant king — slow to anger, quick to share mangoes.

The velvet-voiced storyteller — every saga begins when he clears his throat.

A grandmother whose folk tales have put three generations to sleep — and kept them up.

The neighborhood inventor — every gadget works twice before exploding once.

Prescribes rest, patience, and one bowl of halwa. Mostly halwa.

Her recipe book is memory, her measuring cup is love, her portions are enormous.

Arrives late to everything except conclusions.

Looks down on everyone — architecturally, not personally.

Wisest at midnight, unavailable before noon.