Sarah

Ananya turned out to be charming child, though not very sharp. I had to work hard with her. But I didn’t mind. After all that was all I was supposed to do. I can think of many people who would have found the job exhausting and uncomfortable. But not me. I had never known more comfort in my life. I had nothing to worry about. I had a room all to myself, with a heater to keep it warm when the mountain weather was too cold. And I was growing accustomed to it. I had hot food at my table for each meal, and had only to ask for tea or snacks anytime. Could even a princess have more comforts in her life? Sometimes I was so comfortable that I felt anxious about it. Would it last? What if it was taken away?

What scared me most was… not Mr. Roychowdury’s behavior, but my own. My tongue seemed to loosen up in his presence. I often replied to him with a sharpness I had never known in me. What if someday he grew tired of my insolence and threw me out. I needed to be careful.

Scared or not, it was difficult not to find him odd. On the one hand he asked me questions like he was genuinely interested in learning about me. On the other hand, sometimes he ridiculed me in such ways that he couldn’t possibly take me seriously . Even his attitude towards his daughter left me confused. He cared so much about her that he had hired a whole set of staff to take care of the house he didn’t have much use for. Two people, the aayah and I, were hired solely for her. He also kept asking after her health, her meals, her educational progress and her overall well-being. Yet –her affectionate babblings and hugs, he seemed to reciprocate with hesitation and difficulty. I wondered if the child felt that disquiet or not. In any case, she continued to shower her affections on her Daddy.

None of the house staff seemed to care much about his oddity though. He paid handsomely and was a kind employer. That kept them satisfied. If they did gossip about him, they did not seem to do it before me. It turned out that I was considered more his equal by the staff than theirs. That was quite a boost to my ego. Even if it was only because I shared his dinner table with him; for some inexplicable reason!

—

“You have been teaching Annie how to draw?” he continued his conversation even after the dinner was over and the plates were cleared off.

“I’m not trained. But I thought I could get her started.” Would he object?

“She showed me some drawing and paintings that she said were yours. Were they, really?”

“I am not sure what she showed you.”

“If they were, it is much more than what I would ever have expected.”

“You don’t expect much,” I frowned despite the resolve to stay calm before him. It shouldn’t, but it hurt when he dismissed me like that.

“Ah! The ghost is offended.”

It was better to stay silent.

“On second thoughts though, you don’t look so ghost-like any more. Your face is full and bright and your eyes…”

“Excuse me?”

“Bring me your paintings.”

“My paintings?”

“Yes. If you please?” he added with mock courtesy.

His unexpected comments on my face and eyes unsettled me.  And if truth be told it had set my heart fluttering, though I wouldn’t have acknowledged it even at gunpoint. I withdrew silently in confusion and came back with the paintings. At the same time Ananya came running into the dining room, with her aayah following her.

“Daddy!”

“Annie. Why are you still up?”

“Tomorrow is Sunday, Daddy. I don’t have to go to school.”

“But…”

“I am unable to sleep. Read me a story, please.”

“I have work to do…”

“I will do it,” I interjected, “You can see these, meanwhile.” I handed him the bundle and made to lead Ananya out. I wanted to get away from him.

“Wait. Sit on that sofa with her. Read to her there.”

Ananya like the idea. She would be in her father’s presence even if he would not indulge her by reading to her. I was stuck.

As I read to the child, I also watched him from the corner of my eyes. He looked through the paintings and kept three of them aside. He waited patiently until I had finished reading the first story.

“That’s enough Annie.”

“Daddy. Can I look at the paintings?” The child was in no mood for going to the bed.

“All right. Take these,” he offered her the bundle other than the three he had put aside. Then he addressed the aayah in broken Kannada. “Keep an eye on her and make sure she does not tear them.”

“Yes Sir.”

“Ms. Jacob. Come here.”

Ananya and the aayah settled on the sofa, while I went to the dining table and sat across him.

“What is it here? Is this your church?” he spread one of the paintings between us and asked.

“Yes…”

“But these are not the real surroundings, are they? This jungle?”

“No Sir.”

“Why is it there?”

“You don’t like it?”

“It is well-drawn. But I find it uncomfortable. It doesn’t have the warmth. It vast. You can get lost. I see loneliness here.”

I bit my lips and held my silence. I felt his gaze on me for a few moments, before he turned his attention to another painting.

“And this fort? Which one is this?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” he looked surprised, “How did you draw it then?”

“I don’t know. Is this a real place? I just had this vision in my head. Probably something I had read or might have seen a photo or painting…”

“It looks uncannily like a painting of Chitradurga Fort I had seen. I will take you there sometime.”

He noticed me looking startled and added, “Annie would like it. You could accompany us. And who is this? Father Jacob?” He spread out the third painting.

I nodded.

“His looks are uncommonly kind.”

“He is uncommonly kind…”

“Hmm… I will keep these,” he started folding them away, then stopped for a moment, “Is that okay?” He finally remembered to ask me!

—

To be continued