“Daddy. We should go for picnic today.”

“Picnic? Where?”

“Anywhere.”

“I don’t know where anywhere is. Who gave you the idea anyway?”

“Sarah Auntie.”

“Sarah Auntie?”

“Actually Sir,” I had to explain. He would think that I was trying get to him through the child, “She saw a picnic on some TV show. She was after me to go for it. I wasn’t sure… So, I told her to wait until you came and ask you instead…”

“Hmm… So, you don’t want to go?”

“I do… I mean no… I… Basically I don’t mind.”

“All right. Then you have my permission. Take her and go for picnic,” he went back to his newspaper.

“But that would be boring.”

“Eh?”

“Annie is with me all the time anyway. Going with me would be boring for her. She would like to spend time with you.”

“Yes Daddy. You must come.”

He sighed audibly and put the newspaper down. “Fine then. Let’s go. The three of us. I have a spot in mind. Have Chanda pack us lunch and snacks. Also get whatever Annie will need from Kaveri.”

“Yes Sir.”

—

Protim

I had done a good job of pretending that I agreed to the picnic only for Annie’s sake.  But for how long could I keep my feelings under wraps? That woman was driving me mad. At first I assumed it was my loneliness. Anybody decent coming into that lonely life was likely to make me feel that I was falling in love. I had taken up the job in Mysore not only for the sake of professional fulfillment, but also to keep away from her.  I had to be amongst other people, my intellectual equals, to get a perspective on who I was and where she stood in my life. But the distance had done nothing to quell my fascination with her. I craved for her company more than ever. What was I to do? Did she have any inkling of what she was doing to me? I stole a glance at her while driving. There she was! The very picture of poise and propriety. Utterly unaware of the havoc she was wreaking. How I would have liked to pull up the jeep, chew up those lips of hers and crush her in my embrace until she had no option but to give in. But… But it wouldn’t do. If my Gods had given me more tact, a sweeter disposition, a handsomer face, I might have been able to seduce this daughter of Jesus. I had none of those, and yet I had to seduce her. How?

—

Sarah

The riverside appeared to be a favorite spot of his. “I like this place” was all he had said. But he wasn’t one for giving any kind of extreme expression to his emotions. By then I knew him enough to know what “I like this place” meant. It was here that he came to contemplate, or to run away from, whatever complications his life had. It was here that he prayed for peace. How I yearned to take his head in my lap, to ask him to close his eyes and run my fingers over them. How I wished to assure him that he was a good man and whatever it was that bothered him would be set all right.

But he wouldn’t care for those niceties, would he? In this lifetime, I wasn’t going to get a chance to pull his head in my lap!

He was intent upon relieving me of my duty to entertain Annie during the picnic. He played whatever games she wanted to play and asked me to relax and rest. I made use of his generosity and sat at the riverbank with my feet dangling in water. The stream was narrow and gentle there, and cold water was soothing on my skin. I had my back to the father and the daughter, who were playing a board game under a tree. It was better for my nerves, and my job security, if I didn’t stare at him all day long. I prayed for my peace of mind, and his, while I sat there.

“Do you like it here?” I would have been startled, if I hadn’t been aware that he was no longer chatting with his daughter. He had left her with a picture puzzle and I had heard his footsteps as he approached me.

“It’s beautiful,” I replied, but did not look back. I dared not meet his eyes. For some reason, tears were threatening to burst out of my own.

“Not just this… I mean this place, this job, the people…”

I forgot to breathe for a moment. For all his crude and rough exterior, he cares! I took a deep breath and brought my wayward feelings under control. I had to look him in the eyes and tell him. I pulled my feet out of water, stood up and turned to face him.

“You are very kind, Sir,” I hoped my voice was steady, “To me. I more than like it here. I am… I am happy here.” Afraid of saying more than was appropriate I immediately walked away from him to go to Ananya. Did I feel his gaze at me because I wanted to feel so, or was he really following me with his eyes?

—

Chanda was excited to be welcoming Mr. Roychowdhury’s paternal aunt in the house. The two women had known each other, when Chanda served at Roychowdhury house in Kolkata. Chanda was hungry for gossip and happy to have it in her mother-tongue. Accompanying Mrs. Roychowdhury was Debjani Mukherjee, her sister’s daughter, whom my employer introduced to me himself.

“Oh come on, Protim,” she exclaimed, “Isn’t Debjani a mouthful. How many times have I told you to call be Debi.” He responded with a smile, an almost hospitable social smile that I had never seen on him. Something pierced through my heart, but I knew it had no right to bleed.

“This is Sarah. Sarah Jacob. Annie’s tutor,” he continued the introduction.

“Tutor? No wonder, she looks the studious kind,” Debjani grinned.

If she meant to be derisive, I decided not to be oblivious of it and put on my best smile for her. “Welcome Ma’am. Is this your first time in Coorg?”

“First time in South India itself. And I am terrified. I have heard that Chanda has gotten into the habit of making idli-dosa all the time. I might have to retrain her.”

“Idli-dosa is not something to be eaten all the time, not even by South Indians, Ma’am,” I shouldn’t do this; I was aware of it even as I was speaking, but I just could not hold back. Why did Debjani inspire such bitterness in me within a few minutes of our first meeting? “There is much, much more to South Indian cooking. But I am sure Chanda Auntie has not forgotten her hospitality. She will cook what you like.”

Debjani whistled. “Ooooo. That’s one fiery teacher, Protim. Where did you find her?”

My employer fidgeted, but did not say anything.

“In an orphanage,” I looked not at her, but at him, as I answered in his stead; then turned to her, “Have a good day, Ma’am. You must be tired after the journey. Please take rest.”

—

To be continued