New FF The Love Digger's husband - 5 chaps updated

Chap 1:

Maan:

Maan was staring at the lady in front of him. She was impatiently checking her watch every two minutes. Her face was for lack of a better word, interesting. Yes she was interesting.

He kept observing her from the corner of his eye not wanting to make it obvious. Her face was over made up. As if she was not used to make up. Her black eye lining was exaggerated and not done in a smooth straight line. Her mascara had caused her double layer eyelashes to clump in a funniest fashion. She had her hair tied up in a bun of all things. And around the bun were deposited artificial flowers. White and marigold. Her lipstick was a funny shade too. As if she had mixed and matched the colors like one would do with paint.

When she was pacing the lobby he had a feeling she might slip and fall any moment. For she was not used to yards and yards of saree clothing being wrapped around her. But that did not seem to stop her. She opened her bag and fetched a cell phone. And made a call. Her face transitioned smoothly from impatience into anger. Her feet ought to have been hurting with the high stilettos. That her poor soles were not used to. She did not seem to care one bit.

Her luscious mouth grimaced into a cute pout. It was kissable. Not in a debauching kind of way. Sort of like pinching a small girl's cheek kind of way. Her face appeared soft and kind. Her eyes had a wisdom and that know it all look. Her forehead was creased in worry as if the entire world was her responsibility. She had a very expressive body language that easily portrayed what was in her mind.

Finally the girl sat down. Oh dear when did she become a girl now? She was a lady just a few seconds ago. He sighed. She was muttering a few phrases. Did she not care what people around her would think about her at all? She was so carefree and joyous. Though her face indicated otherwise.

He imagined himself going closer. And holding her soft body in his arms. Pressing her closer to himself. This was definitely not like a wet dream. He did not feel desire or attraction. It could probably be called a strange sense of melancholy.

But why was he sad looking at the girl? What had she done or said to evoke anything inside him. She was now drowned in her cell phone playing angry birds to placate her own anger. Finding sadistic joy in the cyber world.

Suddenly she looked up. As if her sixth sense had warned her someone was observing her intensely. He did not look away. She turned her face from side to side expecting some sort of reaction from him to conclude he was not really looking at her. But why did he have to back off? His face remained expressionless. And she made a question mark face at the seemingly strange man in front of her.

Her naughty eyes were telling the entire tale. She was now thinking why was this man staring at her. And not even ashamed of it. Even when she had caught him in the act he was not looking away. Her thumb was tapping her cell phone in a bid to aid her brain in thinking. What was she supposed to do about this man? Should she just ignore him. Or confront him. For what? For just looking. A bit more than he was supposed to. She did not seem irritated by it though.

She followed the trail of his eyes. Undoubtedly to check if it landed on her breasts. Of course it did not. Please, why would he stare at her chest of all things?

She sighed ever so slightly after having supposedly decided that he was not some pervert loser who was looking to objectify her. Then her clumped eyelashes flickered. She was now thinking why would any man stare at a woman if not for her body. He would surely not be impressed with her brains or nature. For he did not even know her.

Then her deep brown eyeballs tilted toward one side in a manner indicating clever thinking. May be it was love at first sight for him. Was she looking so good with make up? Then she looked back at him again. And of course would have found he was still looking at her. This was getting stranger by the second now, wasn't it?

He almost expected she would now decide to stand and walk around just to make sure his eyes were on her. And she actually did. She pretended to have received a call and began talking into the phone and walked around a bit. All the while observing where he was looking from the corner of her eye. And this time he let his eyes look beyond her.

Her cheeks went a light tint of red with embarrassment. She was now thinking what had she been thinking! Getting carried away with all nonsense. She vigorously shook her head in micro movements. And came back and sat down in her place. Her face indicating a slight disappointment that she had been unable to enamor the man in front of her as she had thought she had. What useless thoughts!

He smiled slightly. Wasn't she cute? He then stopped looking at her. He had a book signing and release to go to.

His friend Arif got there.

Arif "Hello there Maan, I am so glad you could make it. I cannot tell you how honored I feel."

Maan smiled "Of course I would get here. I cannot refuse such a talented friend and publisher now, can I?"

Arif "Thanks Maan. Please come. Isn't Dev here?"

Maan "He said he will come as soon as possible. He is held up in traffic."

Arif "And by the way have you met Geet?"

Maan "I am afraid not."

Arif "Please meet Geet. Ignore her dressing. She is modeling for us today. The author has written a book on Mumbai prostitutes and wanted someone at the signing who could be you know 'symbolic'."

Maan nodded "So pleasure to meet you Geet. I am Maan Singh Khurana."

Geet smiled, her tooth stained slightly with the lipstick "I am Geet Handa."

Maan was smiling inwardly at the girly woman. Yes she was a woman. He could feel the tenacity in her demeanor. How, he did not know. He saw something in her that instinctively told him there was more to her than that met the eye. A hint of mystery. As if she could portray being a prostitute whilst still retaining that wisdom and purity in her thoughts. For some strange reason he felt sadness again. As if something were lost. Something precious.

He sat down on a reserved chair in the bookstore. The crowd was not much. The author was new. He was here only for his friend. He saw a few ladies who looked like feminists. With their face having assumed a haughty look that oozed disdain. Obviously the feminist critics had to be here. To comb through the book with a microscope and give their 'expert' opinion on what the book was and what it ought to have been.

It was funny how he was here. Or why. He would never read the book that was being released. Never ever probably see the author lady again. But life had a way of creating situations that are meant to be something. And he truly believed that.

And then he saw Geet walking up to the stage. His attention was heightened. Apparently the girl was meant to deliver a couple of dialogues as well. He could sense her nervousness. She was rubbing her palms together and rapidly shifting her eyes. Clear case of cold feet. Probably she was not used to speaking in front of an intelligent well read crowd. Where her every word would be measured.

She stood in front of the microphone and wet her lips. They were getting cracked with the caustic lipstick probably.

She began in a low not so confident voice.

Geet "This is a book about a prostitute. But it is not about prostitution. It is about rising above circumstances."

Maan smirked. A sarcastic great.

Geet "I have not read this book obviously. I just know that it is about a hooker who gets her hands on a diamond."

Maan shook his head ever so slightly. Not happening at all. The book he meant.

Geet "Now I do not know much about prostitutes. But I can say a thing or two about diamonds."

Maan's eyebrows furrowed. Interesting.

Geet "Prism. The most beautiful shape in the world. Why? It traps light internally reflecting it millions of times onto its own internal sides. Generating a sparkle that can be spotted from a far distance. Wars have been fought. Dark people have been debased. Kings have been dethroned. Just to be able to possess this priceless shape.

But the beauty of the prism is borrowed. Turn off the light and the beauty is gone. Isn't that ironic? That the epitome of beauty, a woman's best friend, the most expensive object money can buy is all but a sham. An illusion of virtuousness.

A diamond is hard but is not tough. Is being hard and being tough different? It most definitely is. Hardness just means the surface is clean and does not scratch much. But toughness is something where the object does not break when hit with a hammer."

Now what did a model know about total internal reflection? Geet Handa was intriguing.

Geet "I hope this book brings to light on how futile it is to protect something that is so false. And leaving everything else so exposed."

She went silent. Probably nobody understood what she had spoken. There was no applause at all. She looked at everyone expecting some sort of reaction and got none. She got down the stage with faked great dignity. He had to gulp. The rest of the signing continued as if she did not exist. How sad was that!

Chap 2:

Few months back:

It was a bituminous evening. Dark clouds were hanging around the lake giving it a dark and ominous feel. Strange smells of ashes burning were filled in the air. Veer was a lonely young lad. Not very dashing. Village urchins did not entertain him. There were too many people at his home to have a quiet peaceful moment. So he visited the village lake every evening. It was his usual custom. But today he saw something scary. A white somebody floating. In the water. Lifeless. He waived it off as a something an oarsman had thrown overboard. But then the object was too big. He sat there for about a good hour before the clouds started thickening. The object had not yet moved. An object big enough to be a man. For a lad not used to too much television random things like this were entertainment. And fear. He decided it was time for positive action. He ran to the nearby potter's home to fetch binoculars. The potter considered himself a budding ornithologist and fancied his chances big time. Veer ran back to the lake and viewed the object. He was petrified. It was somebody he knew. Who had been dead for at least an hour and the dead body was floating on its back. He felt he would have nightmares about this for years to come.

He began running and did not stop until he reached the guest house. He went straight to the suite in it and banged on the door. Huffing and puffing.

A regal looking old lady opened the door. She wore a white silk saree and had knowing eyes that could light up a thousand suns with their sagacity and wisdom. Her smile brought a soothing effect on Veer. But it did nothing to ease his fears.

"Yes Veer beta. Why are you so tense?"

Veer was searching for words. There was no easy way to say this.

Veer "I saw him dead and floating in the lake."

Her eyes widened in fear "Who?"

Veer "Maan saab."

Daadi clutched her chest and was about to fall backwards. Veer held her just in time.

Veer "Daadi you alright?"

Daadi "I don't believe you. Take me to the lake right now."

They hastened to the lake to find as Veer had said Maan Singh Khurana floating on his back. Lifeless and unmoving. Daadi was about to break down.

Veer "Wait, I spot some movement through the binoculars. Look!"

Daadi grabbed the viewing instrument and indeed Maan was swimming back. She sighed a huge sigh of relief.

Veer "Sorry Daadi. I thought.."

Daadi "Doesn't matter beta. Thanks for informing me. You are a good boy. Go back home now. It is late."

Veer nodded in huge relief. And ran back home as fast as he could.

Maan swam back to the shore and his eyes indicated surprise at finding Daadi.

Maan "Daadi, what are you doing here?"

Daadi "Veer told me you were dead and floating in the lake."

Maan did not know how to react for a brief moment and then burst out laughing.

Daadi "It is not funny you know. I almost had my fatal final heart attack."

Maan grinned "Daadi, Veer imagines things. You know that."

Daadi sighed "I know. That is why I came here to check for myself. Don't ever do that again!"

Maan smiled "What? Never swim again?"

Daadi "Don't ever float on your back again. Not even in a swimming pool. This lake is supposed to have housed a crocodile last monsoon."

Maan "Is it? If a crocodile had found me I wouldn't be floating now, would I?"

Daadi "Not funny at all. Just come back home and have your dinner now. You just don't want to see a smile on my face. And by the way why were you floating on your back for so long? And for how long!"

Maan just shrugged "I was just you know meditating." He looked at his water resistant watch, "For about four hours."

Daadi was staring at him walking, stupefied. Four hours! After coming back to her senses she walked back with him to the guest house. And there were some guests waiting for them. Seemingly important ones.

Daadi "Maan beta. They are trustees from the village development committee. I think they are here to collect donation for the new school they are building."

Maan "I see. Hello. Please have a seat."

Trustee1 "So Maan, we have heard a lot about you and your generosity. As a bid to further education in our own village we are building.."

Maan "One minute. Why should I make a donation for your trust?"

The trustees looked at each others faces.

Maan "I am sure you have plenty of people who are NRIs making hefty donations. And you organized an international festival last year giving awards to so many 'deserving' people. All that money to hold that fest had to come from somewhere."

Trustee2 "Look here Maan."

Maan "Don't ask me to look anywhere. I am asking a simple question. I want to see the books of accounts for your trust."

Trustee2 "We don't…"

Maan "We get a useless monthly magazine from you. As if that weren't enough we get an annual bonanza of a colorful book with all photographs of 'achievements'. I don't see any mention there of any sort of bookkeeping for the money that we all donate. You appear to be a trust only in name."

Trustee1 "The thing is.."

Maan "Any club in the city or elsewhere prints their expenditure, surplus, new plans in the pipeline in their magazine for everybody to see. Every member is treated equally and given equal amount of privileges in the club. But all I see with your trust is rank favoritism."

Trustee2 "Excuse me…"

Maan "No you are not excused. Just because we stay in the city and earn well, we have to pay you some kind of tax every year? For which let alone rewards we are not even given basic respect?"

The trustees were silent.

Maan "I am not expecting a medal of honor. I am not a philanthropist. I am not a saint who wants to write my hard earned money to a trust that is not transparent to its motives. Just a couple of years ago I had made 1 lakh rupees donation to your trust. No mention of it was made anywhere. Which is fine. If the same rules were applied for everyone. But no. If an NRI gives half that amount of money in dollars, his name and bio data is printed on the front page. Why should I be a party to this sham?"

The trustees had no words to say.

Maan "Look I don't have a problem with the way you run your 'trust'. Just don't behave as if you are doing me a favor by asking me for my donation. It is not my duty to be charitable to you. I think you have enough. This may be my native village but I choose to take my charity elsewhere. You may leave."

Maan was fuming by the time the trustees had left.

Daadi "Leave it na beta. These people will do anything in the name of asking for donation."

Few months back elsewhere:

He was lying on the chaise lounge chair by the Olympic sized swimming pool sipping his favorite poison. This was life. He did not swim much. But he loved hanging out by the swimming pool for obvious reasons. A bevy of beauties waltzed past him. Best part. He did not even have to do much. His name itself was enough to attract women.

But he was also bored. There was nothing about any of these ladies to excite him anymore. They were all the same. Spoke the same things. Had the same goals. They only created an irritation inside him with their constant chatter. They made a mountain of every small event celebrating it as if it were his birthday.

And then he saw her. His heart stopped beating for one split second.

He was stunned into disbelief by her aura and sheer magnetic beauty. She was wearing a bikini. And was looking scorching hot. All the anorexic model type of girls around her who starved themselves just to be able to get into a swimsuit were now secretly wishing they hadn't. She was as curvaceous as they came. Her poor clothes unable to hide and survive her sensuality. He was sure a couple of women who were staring at her had begun having second thoughts about their own orientation.

She packed some poundage in all the right places. May be even a modicum layer of sweet belly baby fat. But that is what made the entire picture so hot. It was the fact that her body was not perfect. It was healthy with generous amount of grace and pride. When she walked her body was taut but it also vibrated just a little bit to let you know she was human. He just could not tear his eyes away from this vision.

Her face was the last thing one would look at in all this brain numbing beauty but he did look at it. She had a stellar movie star face which was expressive and kind. A face that could portray anger, strength, humor, bubbly demeanor without actually turning into a puppet monkey. The complexion as smooth as silk. Natural yet had enough imperfection to make it beautiful.

He needed to find his ball bearings before searching for words to introduce himself to this bewitching creature. Without his being aware of it, he had actually stood up.

"Are you actually going to say something? I am tired of staring."

But staring was the only thing he could manage to do.

"If words are evading you, would you mind moving aside please?"

He automatically moved to a side. And watched her swim. And his idea of what swimming was changed from that moment.

Present:

Maan:

Maan found himself yawning through the rest of the proceedings. Arif offered for him to say a few words but he declined. That would be the last straw. The pinnacle of boredom.

One more great sarcastic plus from this entire book signing exercise. He got a signed copy of the next bestseller 'Monkey Diamond'. Which he would most likely trash on the way back home.

He went sauntering outside and found her in the lobby playing angry birds again. He knew she would not speak to him or anyone else. So he just told her.

Maan "Geet Handa."

She looked up at him her expression being a mixture of interrupted concentration, a curious interest and slight boredom.

Maan "I have only one thing to say about your speech."

She lifted her chin and eyebrows up meaning to emote a 'yes?'. And it came out very cute and well.

Maan widened his eyes like a pale ghost and said in all seriousness "Monkey Diamond."

She giggled.

Maan "So until the universe conspires for us to meet again, adios."

He was smiling away to glory driving back in the car. Did it ever happen he wondered. That a joke which made no sense made two strangers share a special moment and laugh. A moment they both would most likely remember for a long time to come. Absolutely beautiful.

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Chap 3:

FEW MONTHS EARLIER:

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The man was the man of the moment. He was as handsome as death himself. The world's attention was upon him. He was being begged to invest. Begged to bestow a look upon the mere mortals surrounding him. A mere word from him that he was backing out from a project was enough to cause shock waves and end the very project.

Clients and investors alike scurried around like bunnies waiting to see if the expression on his face had changed. Whether his stubble had darkened since they had last met him. Was he using too much hair gel? Women of course liked him for his faux intelligence. For he had nothing much to add. Nothing more to bring to the table. Not in terms of management or in terms of feelings.

The world's eight marvel. A man who had managed to build an empire based on 'I never lose until I actually lose' attitude and a foreign degree. There have been whispers in the hallway of time that he actually had a past that was something to write home about. But that too turned out to be a damp squib. As mentioned a little while above it was one of nature's greatest mysteries that a man with a characterization like him had made it anywhere near big in life and in love.

All said and done, he was a powerful rich man with an aptitude that tended towards domestically violent behavior. He knew only to physically torture the poor emotional women souls for their own good of course. His polio afflicted sister prayed everyday to God to forgive him for his sins. He wanted to change but a change meant for him a change in his personality. A Byronic hero could never be a part of a happily ever after story now, could he?

But the man was angry. There was a thorn in his perceived flesh. A thorn that only seemed to grow right in front of his face causing him to forecast an impending doom. He thought but only briefly before making yet another reckless decision that he was sure would turn out good because after all he was he.

He spoke into space for he had his Bluetooth headset on "Aman, I want Maan Singh Khurana out of circulation."

Aman "What is that Maan Singh Khurana Sir, a newspaper?"

Man "What the… Aman, this is not the time for over the top comedy. I am serious. We need to manage our profit margins."

Aman "Sir, sorry sir. I am just your invisible phone employee. I rarely get to meet you. So it is easy to misunderstand over the phone."

Man shook his head "My name is Arnav Singh Raizada. Just do as I say dammit."

********************************************************

ASR awoke with a start. Vow that was a weird self shrinking satirical introspection DREAM. May be he had forgotten to take his insulin medication and was having hallucinations. But Maan Singh Khurana was a rising name in town. And ASR did not like it one bit.

PRESENT:

Maan:

It was the weekend and Maan Singh Khurana had a party to go to.

He started getting dressed with his favorite classical opera music playing in the background. It helped him maintain that sense of rhythm. For a man like him that is what music meant. A way of keeping time whilst enjoying it subconsciously. He did not like new age music like rock or pop. Because that kind of music made everything mechanical. They could never be used as 'background' score for life. It did not allow a space continuum to think. Music which only leant itself to dancing and head banging could not be heard from a place of calmness. It did not excite the body's nerve endings and simulate it. Maan did not mind even instrumental music.

But for now since he was dressing in a black suit 007 style, opera music seemed more appropriate. He put on his clothes along with a stupid looking bow tie. It was supposed to be in vogue. That is what Annie had told him. And he did not think much about what he wore as long as it was expensive and Annie approved it. Well he supposed he could wear 'usual' clothes. But that meant thinking about his entire look and planning for each occasion. When some ace designer who knew what he was doing had already done it, why not just buy it and wear it when one can afford it?

Maan went downstairs and was about to leave when he saw Daadi coming in with someone who looked like trouble. Not to worry. Maan had a way of evading it.

Daadi "Beta, this is my friend's granddaughter, Sapna."

Well he had to agree she looked pretty and smart. But weren't they all?

Maan "Hello Sapna. Nice meeting you. So Daadi I will.."

Daadi "Sapna has come down from the US and is new around here. So why don't you show her around the city this weekend beta."

Oh no! Not again! When would Daadi ever get the message.

Maan "Daadi I am busy this weekend."

Daadi "Hmm. We will plan something Sapna beta. Don't worry. For now Maan please entertain this nice girl for a few minutes while I get tea ready."

Maan was feeling like banging his head against the door. But he just smiled instead. But of course he had his own maneuver. Where he could nullify all of Daadi's tricks. Whose grandson was he, after all!

Maan "So Sapna, what do you do?"

Sapna "I actually work at Pottery Barn right now. To save up money for college."

Maan nodded "Vow! Most impressive. So very independent. I wish I could say the same about myself."

Sapna looked puzzled "How do you mean?"

Maan shrugged "I have to report to my younger brother Dev in office. Just imagine! He is the CEO of Khurana Constructions. Heard of it?"

Sapna nodded "Oh so he is like the managing director."

Maan "You must be thinking what an old guy like me is doing stashed in his younger brothers place eh?"

Sapna smiled understandingly "Not at all. Hello, I am of Indian origin. I know in India people stay in their parents or whoever's place for a longer time."

Maan "Probably. But I think it is high time our mentality changes you know. If someone had kicked me out when I was 16 I would have been a better man by now."

Sapna was looking thoughtful. Just then Dev Singh Khurana walked in. Sapna turned and saw the most handsome devil she had ever seen enter. He was six feet tall, drop dead gorgeous, fabulous smile(he had not smiled yet but still), dressed in casuals and walked with a swagger.

And he had a tan to kill for too. It was an all natural tan. It happens only in India, California and sometimes in Miami. Sigh. And here she was, stuck with the stuck up narc wannabe James Bond aka Maan Singh Khurana.

Maan "Talk of the Devil. Dev, come on up here."

Dev "Yes Bro."

Maan "Meet this nice girl, Sapna. She is from the US of A."

Dev gave a broad smile. Holy smoking shit. He did have a fabulous smile. Somebody cut the girl some slack here.

Dev "Hello there Sapna. Are you new around here? I can show you around this city this weekend if you like."

Aha. Yes way! This guy was actually asking her out! Sapna smiled "Sure Dev, I would love that."

Maan "Dev, why don't you entertain this girl while I leave for a party we needed to go to. I was talking about this party."

Maan held the invitation up for display and it had Dev's name on it.

Dev "But Bro I…"

Maan "Don't worry at all. I will take care of this. You enjoy with Sapna, bye!"

Maan heaved a big sigh of relief and left for the party. All the best, Sapna!

He brought the car to a halt when he reached on location. He got down from the car and threw the car keys to the valet. He walked in to make his usual subtle yet happening entry. As Annie always said "Bhai, it is all about the entry."

He went in. He had hardly made his 'entry' when he heard a familiar voice.

"Monkey Diamond!"

He turned around and did not recognize the woman in front of him. Dressed in a white chiffon saree with a daring semblance of a blouse. And her tresses long and strong. She appeared to be a true model this time. The little girly woman had grown up fast. For some strange reason it made him uncomfortable. He did not smile.

Her face showed a great hurt. He could see her gulping. He wanted to walk away from her at that moment. But something made him stay. His heart was beating faster as she slowly walked closer.

Geet "I am sorry."

Maan was puzzled "For what?"

Geet "For not bringing a smile to your face."

Maan was astonished.

Geet "I mean you brought a smile to mine last time we parted. But this time I failed. You do not like that I am dressed this way probably. I will go away."

Maan found himself saying "Wait. It is not that. I just…I did not recognize you in this kind of avatar. You look like a different person. Why are we even talking so deeply about this? Ok let me smile."

He gave her a nice and bright smile. She smiled back with her eyes. It was endearing. What he saw there reflected true joy.

Maan "Hmm so we meet again. So soon. How come you are here?"

Geet "A friend invited me here."

Maan "I see. So Ms Geet Handa, what do you do for a living?"

Geet "I am a student. In Bachelor of Science."

Maan "So that explains the total internal reflection part."

Geet smiled "What do you do?"

Maan "I am an architect."

Geet giggled "Obviously you would be related to construction business na. Not everyone comes here on a free pass."

Maan smiled "Free pass? Hmm who gave you that. Your boyfriend?"

Geet rolled her eyes "God no. My family does not encourage 'boyfriends'. My friend gave it to me. And she ditched me at the last possible minute as usual."

For unexplainable reasons that made him happy. He smiled. They grabbed a starter from a travelling tray. Some smelly crab meat.

Geet looked a little red with embarrassment. Hmm what was that all about.

Geet "Actually na, it is the darnedest thing. I never forget a face. But I always mix up names. What was your name again."

Her entire face was looking sorry.

Maan laughed "I will make it easy for you. My name is Maan. As in man with a double a. That should be easy to remember, right?"

Geet nodded smilingly.

Before they could talk further several people came up to Maan and began talking. Maan observed Geet finding herself a table and in all likelihood playing you know what again.

It took him a long time to finish meeting all the people in the party. But he carefully kept her in his line of sight. She was busy playing with her hair if not with her phone. Here was one girl who did not mind sitting alone. He was feeling sorry for her poor earlobes that had to bear the weight of the dangling earring things. He just did not get the point of the torture that women put themselves through in the name of looking pretty.

When he was finally done he came back to the place where Geet was sitting.

Geet "You know a lot of people here."

Maan "Well it is the kind of work that I do. These are all our potential clients. I attend these parties just for PR."

Geet made a 'Whatever. I don't really know what you are talking about' face.

Maan "What do you plan to do once you graduate?"

Geet "I haven't really decided yet. May be join a research program and try getting a Phd or something."

Maan nodded "Good."

There was an awkward pause.

Maan "How come you were modeling for the book then?"

Geet "Pocket money."

Maan "I see."

A soft melodious old world music started playing. Lending harmony to the quiet murmur of people shuffling about getting ready to shake a leg.

Maan "Want to dance?"

Geet just shrugged like it was the most normal thing in the world to dance with him. She was so matter of fact about the entire thing. He loved that somehow.

They began waltzing slowly. He had his one hand on her back where he could find some piece of cloth. It was hard given the tailor had been seriously miserly about using material for the blouse. The other hand of his was loosely encased in her palm. She had her other hand on his shoulder. They were just swaying.

She was in deep thought.

Maan "What are you thinking?"

Geet "You know my secret aspiration?"

Maan smiled "I wouldn't know that now, would I?"

Geet "I wanted to be an actress. I know it is funny. But still.."

Maan thought for a bit "Actually it is not. You might have some potential there."

Geet "Probably. My friends tell me the same thing. Anyway I believe I have figured out the scientific basis for acting."

Maan looked at her in wonderment and also observed that she was much closer to him now than she was a couple of minutes ago. She did not seem to be aware of it.

Maan "And what is that?"

Geet "Palindromes."

Maan blinked "Palindromes! As in 'Madam, am Adam' kind of?"

Geet "In literature yes. It means the word or phrase is the same when read backwards."

Maan "Is there some other dimension for that word then?"

Geet nodded "I believe yes. Ok now for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction, correct?"

Maan was puzzled "Yes I believe it is called Newton's law."

Geet "Correct. Now that means everything that happens in this world is cause and effect, right?"

Maan continued to frown with the ever growing realization that the distance between them was almost non existent. She had totally forgotten that he was a stranger it seemed like.

Maan "Somewhat. So?"

Geet "So in essence, a palindrome in science means something that which can be cause or effect. Copy so far?"

Maan nodded. He could sense her faint fragrance now. He looked at her face having the most animated expression. As if the explanation was rendered true by the exaggeration. In all her excitement she kept stepping on his leg. And it hurt too with the pointed heels in her shoes. He was now watching where her feet were landing more than her face.

Geet "Now the acting done by the actor and the reaction from the audience is a palindrome. Meaning to say one cannot distinguish between cause and effect there. Whether what you feel about somebody's acting is actually the cause of their performance or the effect. Once the cause and effect become indistinguishable the actor's job is well done."

Maan "Aa true. I sort of get it. Although.."

Geet "See the root of the word 'palindrome'.."

She was dangerously close now and he wanted to signal to her to move away. But he did not want to break the excitement that she was speaking with. He was carefully avoiding stepping on her saree lest it should come apart.

Geet "Palindrome can be split as palin meaning again and dromos meaning direction. So something which is multidirectional can be technically called a palindrome. The actual root of the word comes from crab movement. Which is sort of you know backwards."

He let out a deep sigh "Backwards. Aa Geet..would you.."

And suddenly without warning she raised her arm. It missed giving him a black eye by a whisker. She was talking with her hands now.

Geet "And one more astonishing fact, scientists have discovered that most of our DNA which is you know our genetics is a sequence of palindromes. Just imagine. Acting is in our genes."

Maan smiled at her statement "Hey I have a topic for your Phd thesis.

'Why crabs make excellent actors.

Especially when they are not had as starters'."

She was laughing like a hyena who went to school. He had never had this much fun ever. But he was fearing for his own safety. Thank God! Someone had the sense to turn off the music. Folks were becoming too cozy with one another around here.

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