MAJBOOR

MAJBOOR

For the tenth time in the last hour he wondered why he had even bothered to refer the matter to the police. The tiny dimly lit room in which the three of them sat stank of stale sweat, and the tiny desk fan whirred invain against the stifling heat. Stripped of all the circumlocution and vague legal references, it was clear that the balding middle aged man in the khaki uniform wearing the obligatory moustache did not want to help. That would have involved far too much hard work on the part of Officer Santosh Pandey.

"As I have explained several times, this is not a police matter, Engineer Saab."

"Raj Malhotra," the man corrected for the third time. Why did the police and everyone else in this God-forsaken small town continue to refer to him by his job designation?

"Malhotra Saab..." came the correction, accompanied by a toothy grin.

The officer kept eyeing up the young woman seated across from him. Given his police status he felt it perfectly in order to stare directly at her even though his interest was more personal than professional. The woman seated next to the engineer was of slightly more than average height, about 19 years old and dressed in a blue sari. She knew her place and had remained silent throughout the men's discussion even though that discussion was very much about her future. She occasionally squirmed under the policeman's gaze and repeatedly tried to ensure her pallu completely covered her very full and tight sari blouse. Clearly bored, she would occasionally resort to toying with her long braided ponytail. That unfortunately only inflamed the police officer's lustful gaze. She had noticed him surreptitiously scratch his groin and was nauseated by the act and its implications. Several days earlier she had spent more time with the official than she wanted to, explaining the circumstances of her father's death. She had taken an instant dislike to Santosh Pandey.

"As I have told you repeatedly, this girl's father wagered her in a card game. There must be some action you can take," Raj prompted.

"Saab, you accepted the wager when you could have refused."

"Yes I admit that was my mistake. You see...I'd been drinking at the time," was the embarrassed explanation from the engineer.

"Lodging an FIR would be an empty gesture. I can't take any action against her father. Her father, as you know, hanged himself minutes after sending her to you..." As his voice trailed off, he looked directly into the young woman's eyes, and then added "The matter is officially closed and the body has been taken care of in the appropriate manner..."

The woman showed little outward emotion at the mention of her father's untimely demise. Since participating in the funeral arrangement she had become very philosophical and stoic about her only parent and living relative departing this life. She continued to gaze straight ahead doing her best to ignore the policeman's eyes raking her youthful figure. There was little point in turning to her master who sat beside her for support. She knew he didn't really want anything to do with her. Over the last few days, through his unjustified critical remarks he had made clear his irritation and frustration at her constant presence. That had not in the least stopped her dogging him like a shadow.

"But what am I supposed to do with her?" Raj demanded in the kind of voice that educated middle class people regularly used with officials and the lower classes.

A fleeting lecherous look flashed across the policeman's face before he forced a deprecatory smile. "That's up to you, Engineer - Malhotra Saab...After all, as I've said several times, no law that I know of has been broken."

"But selling people is a crime!"

"You've already stated that the girl's father did not directly offer to sell her to you. So no crime appears to have been committed. When he ran out of money during the card game, he used her as collateral to continue playing. He intended winning back all the money he had lost in the game and of course retaining his daughter. Unfortunately he lost and you won this girl along with a pot of money. Don't feel so bad. These sorts of things happen around here. If I chased every morally dubious action, there'd be no time left to catch the petty criminals that occupy most of my waking hours. Besides, her father Manju - a penniless man - was addicted to gambling. Everyone in the town knows that. Manju gambled away what little he had in the way of a dowry for this one," he explained, pointing at the girl with his chin. "Otherwise, at her age she'd have been married for several years by now. She's quite dark complexioned I'll grant you, but a girl of her age and pretty appearance would still receive many marriage proposals...That's the curse of daughters, Saab. When you have grown daughters of your own, then you'll understand. We fathers have to pay some young man's family to take them off our hands after all the love and attention we've lavished on them."

Raj was getting nowhere with what passed for officialdom in this backwater. He was a city man born and bred and at the moment he resented being posted out here in rural India, resented the lack of an AC and a cold beer - In that order. "But she's not my property!"

At that forceful statement the young woman flinched. She was resigned to her fate so why couldn't her malik do the same. Did rich educated people not believe in kismat? In the past few days she had quickly discovered that the big city types like her malik quite baffling in their attitudes and behaviour.

"No one is saying she's property. She's clearly a person, but people out here often give away even their children to others - whether it's to a childless couple or just because the parents are not in a position to bring up the child." Raj had heard it all before but humoured the policeman by pretending to listen. "She's been gifted to you by Manju. I'm in no position to reverse that. Besides, she herself insists her place is with you and that she's carrying out her father's last wishes. What can I do in that situation? I've no reason to further question or detain her. She's your responsibility now, Saab. The police can't become involved in your personal matters."

Raj decided to stop banging his head on this particular closed door. For the first time since they'd come to what passed for a police station, he looked at the young woman. "Kirin, challo challein."

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

A day earlier, Raj Malhotra had gone to the largest mandir in the area. Of course he'd conducted pooja as any reasonable Hindu would, but he'd come primarily to seek advice from the pandit. The conversation that ensued was equally frustrating although it was about morality and not legal matters.

"Yes, I made the mistake of accepting the wager, but she's a person and not property to be gambled away."

"Beta, you did not commit any sin since you did not gamble the girl, so let that matter go. You say her father Manju was in the wrong for gambling his daughter because she can't be considered property, to be gambled. But let me remind you that the Mahabharata relates how Yudhishthira, gambled away his wife Draupadi? What's Manju compared to the gentle and wise head of the Pandava family?"

"What am I expected to do, then?"

The holy man was serene and smiled often. He was totally unperturbed by the implications of what had happened. "Accept your fate, beta. Accept the gift Bhagavn has given you."

"But I have no need of her."

"How can you refuse a boon from Bhagavn? Besides, I'm sure your wife would find her helpful around the house." The comment would have been calm and reasonable sounding to any person, except Raj Malhotra.

"Mein kunwara hoon," Raj pointed out.

The pandit was undeterred. "Well in the absence of a wife, now you have someone who can cook and clean for you."

"I can't keep her with me. I'm only here for a short while to complete the preliminary surveys on the proposed bridge and then I must return to Jaipur."

"Ah, you're the Engineer Babu who's going to build our bridge across the river. That's wonderful news, beta. It seems as if our prayers have been answered and you will be here for a while."

Raj explained patiently that the bridge wouldn't be built right away. He was still making measurements for a preliminary report, assessing the best location for the bridge. Following this, he would draw up a formal report with recommendation about the engineering elements. On completion of his engineering report, he would return with it to Jaipur. At the Jaipur office cost estimates would be made. Finally some senior bureaucrat would make a decision about whether the actual work of building the bridge could begin. Even then, he might be required to return immediately after the monsoon to make further measurement since the river level could be much higher when it was in full spate. Reports may need to be reworked and this would inevitably cause delays.

"Then take her with you to the city," came the pandit's calm suggestion.

Raj was aghast at the idea, but all he could say at that point was "What will people think?"

"If that concerns you so much, marry her." The pandit's smile never wavered and for a moment Raj wondered whether the man was making fun of him.

"I don't want to marry her."

"I've heard she's very pretty, Engineer Babu. Don't you want to settle down and lead a normal life?"

"I don't want to marry her," Raj insisted.

"Why not? She'll make a better wife than any of the spoilt girls from the city. She'll cook and clean for you without complaint. She'll always have time for you. I hear that while Manju was alive, he received many proposals for her hand in marriage, but the man gambled away the money he had saved for her dowry."

"At the moment I'm not thinking of marrying anyone." There, he had said it out loud. What Raj wasn't prepared to do was to explain why despite being in his mid-thirties he was still unattached.

"Don't take offense beta, but you're not getting any younger. A new young wife who looks up to you can only improve your future."

Another carefully worded deflection was in order. "That may be, but I'm not ready for marriage yet."

The pandit nodded. "I've heard that Kirin beti is a good girl. She kept house for her father after her mother died. It is most unfortunate about her father's passing. She has no one now - except you, beta. If nothing else, she can still cook and clean for you. Treat her well and she'll be loyal. One way or another her fate is tied to yours. Otherwise why else would Bhagavn give you this boon?"

"But I haven't done anything to deserve this boon," Raj insisted.

"Bhagavn know everything you've done in this life, and in previous lives. Bhagavn does everything for a reason. Who are we to question the decisions of Bhagavn?

"So you're saying she should remain with me?" Though Raj tried hard there was still a noticeable edge of annoyance in his tone. All that time and discussion was for naught. He was back to square one.

"Yes, beta. As a boon from Bhagavn, she is yours to do with, as you please. All that I can advise is that you treat her with kindness. She at least deserves that. Both your destinies are intertwined. She will in time change your life for the better."

Raj wanted to believe him but couldn't. As a reasonable person, he was generally inclined to accept the wisdom of holy men. "Really?" he asked with a hint of scepticism.

The pandit smiled. In fact he looked positively happy. "Yes, beta, she'll change your life. There's no point in fighting it. What Bhagavn has ordained, will come to pass."

Raj was irritated with the pandit's constant smiles and calmness but most of all with the gratuitous advice. "But what if I don't wish to keep her? Is there no other way I can help her?"

Raj waited for the holy man to suggest an alternative solution to his problem. He didn't like anything put to him so far.

"Well...you've already said for some reason you feel partly responsible for her father's suicide. And you know her father wanted to have her married off but he couldn't meet the expense of even a modest dowry -"

"But I've already said I don't wish to marry anyone," asserted Raj not wanting to go over old ground.

"If you'd let me finish, beta... To ease your conscience, marry her off to some decent young man and bear the cost of her dowry."

The pandit wore a triumphant look thinking he had solved Raj's problem in a more acceptable way. After any initial hesitation the engineer agreed that the solution had some merit. The pandit's last words of advice were "Now go and fulfil your destiny as has been ordained by higher powers than ours."

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

He packed away his equipment and sat back on his seat to enjoy a cigarette, before he headed back to the accommodation he'd rented for the duration of his stay in the area. Despite his attempts to push the thoughts away his mind relived in detail what had happened on the day he'd met the young woman that had thrown his straight forward life into confusion.

He was seated under the shade of a tree, papers lay strewn on a rickety table in front of him. He was perched on a small stool looking out at the rapid flow of the wide river several metres away. In the distance on the opposite side of the river he could see the twin town to the one on his side. He thought that both towns would have been better described as large villages. The odd plume of smoke rose straight up from the settlement across the river. There was not even the slightest hint of a breeze. His heard hurt and his belly grumbled with hunger. He wondered why Billu was taking so long to bring him his tiffin. Just like the last two days, Billu was late in bringing the food. Raj scanned the horizon for any signs of the man. All he saw were cattle grazing and a farmer or two in the fields. He went back to working on his papers.

On hearing a faint muffled shout, the engineer looked up from his work. A tiny figure in the distance was the source of the sound. Patiently Raj watched the figure approach and slowly bloom to a size that made it possible to discern who it was. The short, fat, elderly man was wearing a lungi and breathing heavily from his exertions. Billu had at last decided to make an appearance with the food from his tiny dabba. As Billu drew nearer still, he started shouting again. "Engineer Babu...Engineer Babu..."

"Not so loud. I'm not deaf...What kept you? I'm famished!"

"Engineer Babu...there's someone who wants to speak to you..." he explained between laboured breaths.

As bald Billu wiped the sweat from his face with his sleeve, from further behind the dabba owner a figure hesitantly stepped out. The face was youthful, perhaps eighteen or nineteen years old and adorned with a nose piercing and earrings. Her dark complexioned face had a black mole on her right temple and she had bee-stung lips which wore a hint of colour. She was only a little taller than average and her figure was thin although her full breasts were larger than what might be expected given her overall lithe appearance. Her black hair was braided and tied in a long pony tail that adorned her front rather than trailing hidden behind her back. The sari she wore was lime green. Her feet were small and bare.

"This is Kirin beti, Manju's daughter," explained Billu. The young woman said nothing but nodded her head when her name was mentioned.

"Well, Kirin what d'you want to talk to me about?" asked Raj, while his attention was focussed on the tiffin in the hands of Billu. "Here. Give me that," he said to Billu relieving him of the food container. Raj was more interested in his stomach than the girl. "You can go now," he said, dismissing Billu. "I'll settle up with you later tonight."

"As you wish, Saab."

The young woman waited until Billu was out of earshot before saying "My father sent me."

The engineer was already into his first mouthful of Alu Gobi and fully intended her to do all the talking. When no further explanation was offered, he looked up from the tiffin to prompt her. "Well, are you going to tell me why he sent you?"

"He said he's settled his debt with you now."

Raj stared at her for a moment. There was native intelligence behind her kohl lined eyes. Her face had been weathered by hardship and stoicism.

"What debt?" he asked, his interest piqued.

"You, my father and a few of his cronies were playing cards last night - for money. Don't you remember?"

Raj had only the vaguest recollection because the night before, he'd had a drink or two too many.

When she noticed his puzzled look, she clarified. "My father ran out of money but he was sure he had a winning hand. So he bet my life - but lost."

"So, what's that to do with me?"

"You had the winning hand. My father wants to pay what he owes you. He made it clear to me that from today I belong to you."

The engineer couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation. The girl's stony faced look brought his hilarity to crashing stop.

"Is this some sort of joke?"

Kirin now stood silent with her head bowed down. Shame suffused her cheeks indicating she hadn't been joking.

"You can't trade people as if they're property."

"You'd know more about such things than me, Malik. I only know what Pittaji said. You accepted the wager when he ran out of money. Pittaji lost the game to you. Now I belong to you."

"I wasn't serious about the bet. I had no intention of accepting you as part of my winnings," Raj parried with lie. Truth be told, he wasn't at all sure what he'd been thinking the night before, under the influence of alcohol.

"You didn't say that to those you were gambling with - certainly not my father," she was assertive enough to point out.

"You can't win or lose a person in a bet," Raj insisted. "You gaon-walley have some strange ways of thinking."

"Perhaps, Malik, but we pay our debts. Whatever you might think, parents do own their children. They give birth to them, nurture them until they are capable of fending for themselves. That's why they do with them as they wish. Parents hand over their daughters to their husbands don't they? Poor families have been known to sell a child or have it work for someone else to pay off a debt. How is this any different?"

She was so calm and matter of fact in the way she explained it all that one could forget she was also talking about herself.

"This is different because it amounts to slavery and against the law," the engineer protested

"I don't know anything about such matters, Saab. But father says you accepted the wager and you won the game fairly. He may be poor but he is a decent, honest man. Poor people can have integrity too, not just rich folk."

When she said that Raj thought she was feisty. However, she wasn't quite finished yet. "He said honour is the only thing he has left. To him it is a matter of honour that he pays off his debt. By giving me to you he says he has paid his debt in full."

It sounded as if she was giving an ethics lessons, but her voice almost devoid of emotion.

"And you accept all this without complaint? Do you not have a say in the matter?"

"Engineer Babu, children and women do what their fathers tells them. It's always been that way. I've never been outside this place but I think you'll find it's the same in every town and village."

He recognised there was some truth in what she said. For a moment he was uncertain how to respond, so waited to see if she would say anything more. She wanted to tell him a great deal more, almost by way of explanation. When she did speak, her eyes and voice carried hints of sadness and regret.

"Long time ago, Malik, I accepted my fate. We cannot fight what Khuda has decreed for us mortals. I once belonged to my father. Now I belong to you. What's the use in crying about the fate Khuda has allotted me? Even though my Pittaji is at heart a good man, he has a gambling problem which has affected my family for many years. Shortly after my father married, he sold my mother's mangalsutra to pay off a gambling debt. Regularly, my father gambled away what little money he and mother earned. He always promised he would stop gambling, but he never could. When mother fell seriously ill, he had no money. No one would lend him any, to pay for her operation. While he managed to buy some ayurvedic treatments they didn't help at all. Mother died when I was ten years old."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Malik, who are we to question what Bhagavn has planned for us? Joy, sorrow or pain are all in his gift."

Although Raj recognised her sentiments, something inside him railed at such a fatalistic attitude to life. He wondered whether it was his education and upbringing that made this fatalism difficult to accept at times.

"Despite what happened to mother, he gambles when the mood takes him, like it did yesterday. Last night he gambled against you."

"So I'm to blame?"

"I'm not blaming you, Malik. But you did accept the wager so you must fulfil your side of the bargain." Her logic was flawless.

"By accepting you, you mean...?"

"I mean I now belong to you instead of my father."

"But I don't want you - or need you."

"Did my mother and father need me? It's not as if I'm a man who lives with his parents all his life and looks after them in their old age," she replied calmly.

"What am I expected to do with you, then?"

"That's your decision, Malik. It's not my place to say...but you can have me cook and clean for you, put me to work - or anything else you wish."

"Well I'm returning you to your father."

"You can't, Malik."

"Why not?"

"He'll refuse to take me back. You forget I know him very well. It is a matter of honour as far as he's concerned. He made it very clear that he didn't want to see my face again."

"I don't care. Go back and tell him I have given you back as a gift. Tell your father I will be insulted if he refuses my gift to him."

"As you wish, Malik, but he won't change his mind," she said resignedly.

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

He remembered lying down on his cot to rest after he returned from his regular evening meal at Billu's dabba, but nothing much after that. A heavy knocking at his door pulled him out of his reverie. He climbed awkwardly out of his bed and answered the door.

She just stared at him with empty puffy eyes. There were streaks on her face that suggested she had been crying recently. Raj just stared back at her wondering what she was doing here. Only two days earlier he had sent her home, back to her father. When she remained standing there, completely mute, he felt obliged to ask, "Why are you here? I told you to go back to your father."

"I can't," she replied her voice barely audible, and then she hung her head.

"Why not?"

"He's dead." She then wailed in distress and flung her arms around Raj because he was all she had now.

The statement was as good as a hard slap. Suddenly he was fully awake. The young woman was still clinging to him, sobbing into his chest. He slowly backed into the room, and she was partially dragged along with him. Raj was at a loss as how to handle the situation and was not yet ready to think through the full implications of what Kirin had said. Slowly he manoeuvred her to a sitting position on the bed and he took to a chair beside her. Her tears continued to flow but the sobbing had stopped. He sat in silence for a few moments before he attempted to ascertain what had happened.

Kirin had gone back home as she had been instructed to by Raj. She had found her father hanging from the ceiling. She had been stunned. It had barely been an hour since she had last seen him. She had shrieked in distress and grasped the dangling body. It had still been warm to touch. She had cried hysterically holding onto him.

Very soon neighbours had arrived to investigate the cause of all the weeping and wailing. Everyone nearby had been shocked by the gruesome discovery. Neighbours had embraced her in sympathy and had tried to comfort her. A couple of men had cut her father down and lowered his body to the ground. Someone had brought a sheet and the body had been covered. It was at that point that someone else had had the presence of mind to realise the police would need to be notified. A young man had volunteered to report the matter to the police.

Two hours later the police in the person of Santosh Pandey had arrived on the scene. The middle aged officer had asked a few preliminary questions of Kirin, and had spoken to a few of her neighbours. Pandey after a cursory look at the body with the rope still attached around the throat had begun to draw his conclusions. The bruise marks around the neck and throat, the slightly bulging eyes and protruding tongue, all had pointed to a case of hanging. There was no question that it had been a genuine case of suicide. Pandey had shared his assessment openly. However he had insisted Kirin accompany him to the police station to give a more detailed account of what had transpired. One of the older woman had pointed out the girl was very distressed at her father's death. Officer Pandey had agreed the older woman should accompany them to the police station.

The questioning and the processing of a full statement had taken three hours. All the events leading up to the suicide had been queried. No, Kirin's father had not suffered from any form of mental illness. No, he had not been depressed of late. The details of the card game that Kirin had been told of by her father had been passed to the police. No, Raj the engineer had not demanded payment from Manju. Kirin's father had insisted in handing her over to Raj. Kirin had made it clear that the engineer had not only refused to accept her, he had also not made any financial demands from Manju. In fact he had sent her back to her father. On arriving home, she had found her father hanging from the ceiling.

Once the statement had been taken down and signed by Kirin, she had been released to return home. When she and her older companion arrived back, it had been decided for Kirin's peace of mind she would slept in a neighbour's home. In the morning, some of the neighbours had assisted with the funeral arrangements.

Once the ashes from the funeral pyre had been collected, Kirin had cast it into the nearby river. She had not said it openly or often enough to him when he was a live but she had loved her father. Even though his gambling addiction had caused her family a great deal of hardship over the years, her father had not been a cruel or wicked person. He had been a loving father but unreliable in holding onto the family's money. He had not wagered her in the card game out of wickedness but desperation. Once he had done that his personal code of honour had forced him to send Kirin to the engineer. She had not blamed him for that.

Kirin had gone back to Raj because it was about honouring her father's agreement during the card game. She had also known she had no one else to turn to.

The first morning after her unannounced arrival, he had taken himself off to the river to continue his work. He though that the out of sight, out of mind' approach might help. It didn't particularly, and to make matters worse, Kirin turned up at a little after midday, to bring his tiffin from Billu's dabba. She claimed that it was her responsibility to bring him his food. He deliberately stayed out by the river bank longer than usual or necessary. The less time he spent with her the better, he told himself. It was sunset before he decided to finish his work for the day. He hopped on his motorcycle and headed back. On the way home, he stopped at Billu's dabba to eat, only to be told that Kirin had instructed the shop-owner not to serve Raj because she was preparing a home-cooked meal. That irked him because it punctured his idea of being single, free and master of his own decisions. So while he did go home to eat, he decided he needed a bottle of daru. That's when he began to properly re-establish his companionship with alcohol.

That day she had turned up at his door with the news of her father's death had sent his mind reeling. While compassion was all very well, the practicalities were the first things he had to address. Being distraught she needed someone to look after her for at least a day or two. God forbid she too should take her own life due to her despair. That was a possibility given her dire circumstances. She was an unattached young woman with no living relatives and no obvious means of earning a living. That made her very vulnerable to those with evil intent. Given the capacity of law enforcement in the area and the lack of social services, the responsibility for her wellbeing currently fell on his shoulders. Kirin needed a place to stay since her father no longer paid the rent on her previous home. Raj's place was big enough for another bed. There were cooking facilities which he had been too lazy to utilise, preferring instead to buy prepared meals at some dabba. Certainly for the first day or two he was prepared for her to stay with him. What would happen after a few days was more uncertain.

There was no getting around the fact that he himself was to blame for his current situation. After all, if he hadn't played cards that night and accepted Manju's wager, this whole nightmare would not now be unfolding. While at a push he could somehow get through the next few weeks with some temporary arrangements for Kirin, what was to happen to her when he returned to Jaipur? It was not uncommon for unmarried couples, particularly in the larger cities, to live together despite the social mores of Indian society. However he and Kirin were not a couple. He had no feelings for her except pity and empathy. Even if he did take her back to Jaipur, as suggested by the pandit, what would his parents think? While his parents were liberal in their views compared to many Hindus, he knew they would strongly disapprove of Kirin and he living together, even though the relationship was entirely platonic. Besides, what would Kirin be expected to do in the city? He had no obligations towards her. So how would he explain her presence to friends and acquaintances? There would certainly be raised eyebrows at his association with a peasant girl of lower caste.

The selfish part of him told him to leave her behind when he returned to the city. He was not obliged to provide for her upkeep. If he felt he wanted to do something for Kirin, he could give her some money when he left. That would be the sane choice. His conscience however would not permit that course of action. While he could try to side-step culpability for her current situation, he kept coming back to the fact that Manju had committed suicide because of the loss incurred in the card game. He found it difficult to shake the feeling that he was responsible for Manju's suicide. And whether or not he liked it, that tied him to Manju's daughter.

Desperate for another sane person with whom to talk this matter through he had phoned his old friend and former flatmate, Vikram. After the initial laughter, his friend quickly realised Raj was not joking about his predicament.

"Yaar, itna tension matt lay. Most men would give their right arm to be in your position. You have your own personal young female slave."

"She's not my slave, Vicky."

"She said she belongs to you and you can do with her whatever you wish. If that's not a slave I don't know what is. If you ask me you should make use of her."

"I am doing that at the moment. She's cooking and cleaning for me."

Completely out of the blue, came a question he hadn't anticipated from his friend. "Have you bedded her yet?"

Raj was shocked at his married friend's blatant attitude. "No, I haven't!"

"If you tell me the thought never crossed your mind, Yaar, I'll call you a liar." When Raj went silent at the other end of the line, Vikram pressed him. "Why haven't you done the business with her? Is she that ugly?"

"It's not proper to take advantage of her like that."

"You've changed your tune, Yaar. When we shared a flat, you were trying to sleep with as many girls as you could. We all did it, Yaar. Why the sudden attack of conscience?"

"Well you're married now and I've grown up."

"What's the harm in a little fun? It's every man's sexual fantasy - sex with a good looking girl who does exactly what she's told. The bonus is there's no strings attached and no repercussions." Vikram was laughing as he said it.

"And what about when it's time to return to Jaipur?"

"Why complicate things? You give her some money, say you'll be back to see her soon and you disappear for good!"

"Vicky, you might be a heartless b******, but I can't do that. Her father committed suicide because he lost his daughter to me in a card game. I can't just abandon her," protested Raj.

"Look, Yaar...The way I see it is that you have several options: set up an ashram for wayward girls; leave her behind; or bring her to Jaipur to incur the wrath of your parents and face being ostracised by your friends and acquaintances." Raj could almost picture his friend counting off the points on his fingers. "You choose."

"That's not helpful, Vicky." Realising his friend was not going to suggest any realistic solution to his dilemma, Raj quickly brought the discussion to a close, promising to visit Vikram when he returned to the city.

Raj was very disappointed with Vikram's response to the problem. Raj rationalised his friend's machismo as down to the jealousy of a married man who fantasised about a string of partners because he was bored with his domestic routines. However deep down he knew Vikram was only reflecting common male attitudes. Perhaps he was being unfair and hypocritical in distancing himself from his Vicky's views.

Whatever else he knew he would need to decide what to do and soon. Kirin had already not wasted any time in moving what meagre possessions she had into Raj's accommodation. She began to establish a routine of fixing him breakfast, bringing him a tiffin for lunch and cooking for him in the evening. There was no reticence on her part in asking him for money to purchase groceries and other essentials items for the home. Before he knew it, he was living a regularised and domesticated life with a stranger. He could not deny he enjoyed her cooking and that she somehow managed to give the place a homely touch. Although she still addressed him very formally, and maintained the essential master-servant relationship, she was not shy about scolding him for his smoking and drinking habits. He did not tell her that the alcohol made her constant presence bearable, but he did cut back how much he drank in her presence. The heavy duty drinking was kept for when she was asleep. He would often step outside the flat to smoke, not only to avoid her criticisms but also to be alone with his thoughts. He was accustomed to having his own personal space.

Despite the apparent domestic scene, he found it awkward because both her and his own modesty had to be protected in terms of bathing or changing clothes. Still, at times he did catch of glimpses of her in a partial state of undress. He had the uneasy feeling she was aware of his gaze but she appeared to be quite relaxed and unconcerned about the matter. She was probably also aware that he cast admiring glances at her figure, and was beguiled by her long black tresses when she was combing her hair. He was quite confused by his own conflicting attitudes towards her. Part of him reacted as most males would in the presence of an attractive young woman, but there was also a part of him that wanted to conform to the rules of society that respected modesty and disapproved of flirtations. He constantly reminded himself that they were not equals and that he mustn't take advantage of his power over her. However, his noble intents were undermined when she offered to massage his feet and legs after a hard day's work, out in the Rajasthani heat. In fact on the first occasion she had put her hands on his leg to massage it, he had nearly jumped out of his skin in surprise and shock. He had told her off with harsh language. She, for her part, was not the least bit discouraged, claiming it was her duty to keep him well and healthy. Since she persisted in offering him a massage over the coming days, he eventually relented. The fact that the massages felt really good chipped away at his honourable intentions towards her. He subconsciously knew he was treading on thin ice.

Kirin's presence was also a constant reminder that he was at least indirectly responsible for Manju's death. It had been primarily to ease his guilt over Manju's death and his inability to decide what to do with Kirin that he had renewed his drinking habit - a day after she arrived at his door. Since he had come to terms with Divya no longer being in his life, he had confined his drinking to the occasional beer. The night of the card game had been an aberration. There had been hard liquor on the table and he had availed himself of some because he felt alone homesick. In his own mind he convinced himself that had he been sober that fateful night he would not have accepted Manju's wager.

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

He was experiencing that disorientating transition between sleep and full consciousness. The room was simultaneously both real and dream-like. It felt as if someone was using an axe on his head to great effect. His mouth was parched and there was a foul taste to it too. His temple throbbed at the mercy of an angrily pulsing vein. What forgotten sin was he being punished for, he wondered. An involuntary groan escaped his lips. It took a further few minutes before he realised this was his morning reward for emptying a whole bottle of liquor the night before. It was a reward he had received frequently these past few days.

Instead of admonishing himself for falling back into the old habit of drowning his sorrows his mind searched for an excuse for his behaviour. Last time too, a girl had been to blame. He told himself that women had been the root cause of all his woes. First there had been Divya - now nearly ten years later, Kirin. Even with the fog created by alcohol remnants in his blood, he knew this time however the situation was very different. This Kirin was not someone he was in love with. In some ways she had brought order and routine to his temporary stay in the little town, but in other ways she had confused his thoughts and thrown his plans into chaos. Alcohol was a quick solution, an old and reliable palliative that had in the past seen him through dark days. Although from the start Kirin had questioned his drinking and initially he had adapted to drinking during her absence, he had on one occasion rounded on her with angry drunken word. She had no place telling him how he should lead his life. In fact he had been quite cruel in telling her she was forgetting her status. What he could not bring himself to say outright was that he blamed her and her father for his current dilemma and in that sense she was the root cause of his drinking.

The daru might have temporarily occluded his guilt over Manju's death and his difficult decision about what to do with Kirin but it also had the unanticipated side effect of making him maudlin. He became sentimental and tearful about Divya, someone he had not consciously thought about for a while. Of course it hadn't helped that Kirin had asked him about his wife and family. She was not satisfied with his brief answer that he was single. That only raised further questions in her mind which she quite intrusively and bluntly asked him. Villagers more than city folk insisted on knowing everybody's business. Why had he not married? Did he intend staying a bachelor all his life? What did his parents think of the matter? Was he holding out for a certain type of young woman before he decided to marry?

Over several days, since they had little else to talk about, she had pestered him so much about these matters that he relented and slowly began to tell her a little about himself. He was careful about what he chose to share with her. He also realised that it was easier to tell her about his life when he had drank a little. Talking about his life was preferably to listening to her talk about the price of foodstuff and how so-and-so had tried to overcharge her, or how she had to haggle down the price of some item. It was easy for him to blame even his journey down memory lane on Kirin.

Raj and Divya were a match made by their respective parents. As Raj had learned subsequently Divya had turned down at least half a dozen proposals, while for Raj she had been his first and only choice. Like many young men of his age, Raj's first criterion of choice was physical appearance. Divya scored high on Raj's ratings with her tall, fulsome figure, handsome fair-complexioned face with bluish eyes and good cheekbones. Her short dark hair gave her a modern as opposed to traditional look. The fact that she was a graduate like him and relatively easy going was a bonus. Smitten was the best way to describe his reaction to Divya. Before long they were engaged.

As he got to know her, Raj fell in love. He couldn't see her often enough. Constantly she was in his thoughts. Despite the watchful eye of their respective parents, they still managed to spend quality time together. The remainder of his waking non-working hours he spent on his mobile phone talking and laughing with her. Within two months of the formal engagement, his condition could best be described as dewaana'. Although she said she loved him, he couldn't help but feel that their relationship was lop sided. She was less vocal and enthusiastic about him than he was about her. Initially he had rationalised it away by assuming women were more reticent about such matters - until the relationship was cemented in marriage.

Everything appeared to be going well for a little while until an external event strained their relationship to breaking point. He paid a heavy personal price for having a conscience. When a construction undertaken by his company suffered a partial collapse resulting in five fatalities, Raj had turned whistle-blower. In his idealistic young mind it was essential that his company accepted responsibility for cutting corners and costs by using defective materials in the construction. The families of the deceased, he had naively thought, would receive better compensation now that he had exposed the scam. Instead of the plaudits he expected, there was some brief coverage in the media and he received a dismissal notice from his employer. No one rallied to support him or have him reinstated in his post. The public he learned was fickle and had become inured to fatalities in the construction business.

In the first few weeks he was angry and disappointed at how he had been treated and he spent a great deal of time fighting his summary dismissal, and writing to various public officials demanding tighter regulations of the construction sector. This did not make him popular with bureaucrats or his fianc. While he was living with his parents the sudden cessation of a regular salary was not really a problem for Raj. Nevertheless he was realistic enough to search and apply for new jobs. He was after all, due to marry soon.

Nobody wanted to hire him. He had been hoping the public sector would be more understanding than the private engineering companies. He, however, was tainted goods. It seemed that Divya and her parents thought so too. She had slowly begun distancing herself from him. She complained he made for poor company because he was obsessed with his current unemployed status. He was accused of never being in the mood to engage in the activities she wanted. A month before they were due to be married, they had a very heated argument although it had been triggered by an altogether insignificant event. Divya choose that moment to say she wanted to break off the engagement. No amount of arguing, pleading or professing his love for her would change Divya's mind. Over several days he badgered her with phone calls and a few times arrived at her door unannounced only to be turned away by her parents. Unlike the realm of Bollywood movies this tactic led nowhere and he remained excluded from Divya's life.

With his own indulgent parents he was permitted to mope around the house or lock himself in his room listening to sad love songs. He ate infrequently and slept badly. However after a few lectures from his doctor father, even his family relationships were strained. They empathised of course, but told him there were many other suitable marriage partners. That was not what he wanted to hear. Marriage with anyone other than Divya was unthinkable.

If that wasn't enough he was reminded by his father that he needed to consider applying for non-engineering jobs. He was lectured to on the importance of re-establishing the routine of going to work and earning some money. His father had stressed it would be good for his morale and pave the way to a post in the engineering sector. Raj didn't want to hear that because he felt, like Divya, engineering was in his blood. When his mother also began to echo his father, Raj became fractious, and argued loudly with her. In the heated exchange he had criticised his father's attitude. His mother had been brought up to always support her husband, so she wouldn't countenance any criticism of her partner - even by her son. She had rounded on him and reminded Raj how much his father had done for him. During that row he threatened to leave home. Over the next two days no amount of calm discussion with his parents could dissuade him from his rash life-changing decision.

In his dingy flat he missed his home comforts but he was too stubborn and angry to return home. Even an unexpected visit from his mother had failed to persuade him to reverse his decision. Given his state of mind over Divya, and his low self-esteem born of unemployment and depression, he had resorted to drinking. Many mornings he could not remember what he had been up to the day before. This continued for several weeks until his minor brush with the law led to the intervention by his parents.

His father being a doctor recognised the early signs of incipient alcoholism and decided to take action. Raj was brought back home and under the watchful eyes of his parents, weaned off the alcohol. That however didn't change his feelings about his unemployed status or his feelings for Divya. His father suggested anti-depressant as a treatment but Raj refused. During his sobriety Raj realised he had developed a taste for being on his own in his own accommodation. He valued his freedom to do what he pleased and when to do it. After three months he tired of living in his parents' home. He wanted his freedom, to go back to living by himself.

Initially his parents were opposed to the idea of Raj moving out again given his fragile mental condition. A compromise was finally reached whereby Raj could share a flat with a male friend provided he took anti-depressant for at least three months. His parents were prepared to pay Raj's share of the rent since he wasn't earning a wage. In the comprise agreement Raj's parents would look in on him regularly and he would be expected to have dinner with them at least once a week. Without such monitoring, his parents would not agree to assist in any way whatsoever.

The day Raj began sharing a flat with his friend Vikram, was the day his parents heard through the grapevine that Divya had married a young man chosen by her businessman father. They withheld that information from Raj for several weeks until the course of anti-depressant medication had blunted his emotions. Cerebrally Raj acknowledged Divya had married someone else, but he felt little in the way of anguish. In fact he could recall all the events of the medicated period but there were no emotions associated with any of things that happened. He was glad he had his friend's company. Deep down he knew he would never have coped on his own.

Vikram was supportive and fun to have around. By the time the second month of medication came to an end, Raj felt well enough to get rid of the calming fog of anti-depressants altogether and experience emotions in their raw intensity. Encouraged by Vikram, Raj returned to doing the things young men do. They played sport, went to night clubs and discoes and took every opportunity to pursue unattached young women. They played pranks on each other. Divya occupied his mind less, and this process was assisted by a succession of meaningless and brief liaisons that Raj engaged in. None of the young women would have captured his heart even if he had let them enter that territory. For him, fun was the primary objective. In time the old Raj re-emerged. With renewed confidence he started to look for engineering jobs.

Reflecting the building public outrage at corruption at all levels of society and all tiers of government, the ruling party in Rajasthan decided it was politically expedient to don the anti-corruption mantle. Raj's application for an engineering post with local government landed fortuitously on the desk of an ambitious bureaucrat, who referred it to an astute politician. The appointment of Raj was a godsend that bolstered the local government's anti-corruption claims. The press releases to the media trumpeted how the government was committed enough to the cause to appoint the whistle-blower who had so courageously broken his silence to correct an injustice. Raj's evidence had precipitated the arrest and prosecution of people who through use of defective materials had caused the death of five labourers. Now this honest and sincere individual would be working for the local government. Raj was not so nave that he accepted any of that talk at face value, but having been offered the engineering job he wanted, he wasn't going to quibble with his employers. And once he was in post he took full advantage of his celebrity status to advance his position and gain promotion rapidly.

Given that he had polished off a whole bottle of daru and had fallen asleep reminiscing about Divya, it was not surprising his dreams were vivid and of comforting times when he and Divya had been happy together.

There she was chasing him, pretending to be annoyed at some joke he had made at her expense. He weaved and bobbed until he finally let her catch him. She grabbed him from behind calling him badmaash. Slowly his laughter faded and her faux annoyance evaporated. She enveloped her arms around him from behind. He pressed back against her. She ground her thighs against him in response. For a moment they held still in that position, savouring the moment. He disengaged, turning round to hold her in his arms. He leaned in to kiss the lower part of her neck. Instead of the soft fragrant flesh, his lips met a curtain of hair. He was momentarily puzzled and then there was a sense of unease followed by blind panic. Divya had very short hair. He looked up at her face. Shocked, he pushed her away. Kirin fell in an undignified heap on the floor. Raj came to his senses suddenly but still in a state of shock.

"What d'you think you're doing?" he angrily demanded to know. What he was not certain about was who he was angry with - with himself or Kirin. "Besharam," he spat at her.

She did not answer straight away. Slowly she picked herself up from the floor and stood over him. "I was only trying to comfort you when you were tossing and turning in bed." Her tone was very matter of fact and she wasn't the least bit embarrassed.

"You mustn't ever do that again! D'you hear me?" he fumed.

"But Malik, that's exactly what you wanted to happen, didn't you?"

"Don't talk nonsense!"

"I may not be as educated as you, but I'm not so nave about men and their ideas."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"It means I've noticed the way you look at me." He went to respond but he was flustered and the words died in his throat. "You're no different from other men that undress women with their eyes. We're all just wh**es and mistresses to you," she accused bitterly.

Before he could think, he stood up and his hand lashed across her face with a loud slap, send her reeling back. As she nursed the redness of her left cheek, he felt a surge of regret and embarrassment at his violent behaviour. He had never considered himself capable of such violence against a woman. He continued to stare dumbly at her.

"When women mention men's true nature, they resort to violence and swearing. That's all you men know."

Kirin didn't raise her voice but her anger and contempt was almost palpable. A flush of shame crossed his face, and he dropped his gaze from her face, to look at the ground.

When Raj remained silent, she added "So where was the harm in me putting my arms around you? Go on. Admit that you liked it. "

The colour in his face turned dark again. "You're just trying to entrap me. You want me to take you with me to Jaipur!"

"There's no need. I know I'll be with you when you're in Jaipur."

Her attitude was resolute, confident and totally misplaced according to Raj.

"And how can you be sure of that? If I leave you behind, that's my choice."

"That's what you think. I trust in Bhagavn and know that our two destinies are intertwined." And with that she turned and made for the door.

"Where you going?"

She scowled at him, saying "Away from you, until your anger subsides."

Why did this young woman confuse him so much he wondered. And to think that the pandit had made the preposterous suggestion that he should marry her.

"Kirin, please stay." There was regret in his tone but he still could not bring himself to apologise.

When she noticed Raj's hangdog expression, she added "Don't worry, I haven't forgotten my responsibilities. I'll be back in time to cook your breakfast."

"But where will you go at this time of night?"

Instead of answering, Kirin turned and walked out. She left him standing there feeling ashamed and remorseful. She had shown him nothing but kindness. From that moment on, he vowed to stop drinking. It was easier to blame the alcohol for his boorish behaviour.

He awoke slowly to the smell of parathas cooking on the stove. From his prone position on his bed he could make out Kirin hovering over the tawa while brewing a pot of masala tea. The sights and smells made him feel hungry. As he became fully awake, he remembered the events of last night and a sense of regret for his behaviour suffused him.

"Kirin?"

"Ji, Malik? Haath muhn dholoh - Naashta tiar heh."

She behaved as if nothing had happened between them the night before.

"Kirin, I want to talk to you about last night..."

"The food will go cold."

Raj got up and wandered over toward where she was plating up the food.

"Mein bohat sharminda hoon. Mujhe maaf kardoh."

He knew masters did not apologise to their servants. But this was the right thing to do. After all, from the start he had struggled with the idea of being her owner. She wasn't his slave or chattel. That was a matter he was currently wrestling with.

For a moment she stopped what she was doing and looked him directly in the eye. "I'll only accept your apology if you promise you'll never raise your hand against me again."

He didn't find that too difficult a condition to accept. Besides, he would be back in Jaipur soon, he told himself.

"I promise I won't raise my hand against you ever again."

"Good. Now go wash before you eat."

He was relieved that matters were on an even keel again. He realised he had underestimated her steely determination and feistiness.

Raj was looking forward to returning to his city home. He missed the wide range of restaurants, shops and bazaars. He missed his friends and work colleagues. He was homesick but there were another two days to wait out. Raj admitted to himself that in a way he was going to miss Kirin's company, but he tried not to dwell on that.

Looking back on it all, none of the options the pandit had suggested were tenable. He was happy now that he had finally decided his course of action. It was as if a great burden had been lifted from his shoulders. Of course he felt a little guilty at the prospects of leaving her behind, but not enough to stop him from going back to Jaipur alone.

Despite his feelings about home, the day was like any other. After the evening meal of Daal Makani followed by gajar halva, they chatted for an hour. Then Raj loaned Kirin his smartphone. Some ten days earlier, he had shown her of all the apps that could be accessed, and since then she had been fascinated by the device and often borrowed it. She had gone through his catalogue of photos occasionally asking who the various faces were, or where and what the sights depicted were. Once or twice he had watched a Bollywood film with her on his smartphone. Lately she had taken to listening to Bollywood songs on the machine. That was exactly what she had done this night while he read a book. Eventually both of them decided to retire for the night.

Raj was beginning to doze off when a noise distracted him. Through half-lidded eyes he could just about make out Kirin's figure getting out of her bed. He thought nothing of it. She was probably going to the toilet. He shifted his position to face the wall and was asleep the instant his head nestled comfortably against the pillow.

It was a vivid, almost waking dream. Arms slipped round him from behind. They were warm and comforting. Firm warm thighs spooned him. That same dream again, he thought to himself. A hand lightly scratched his bare chest. Then fingertips softly traced circular patterns across his stomach. He felt gentle lips nuzzle the base of his neck and that sensual feeling slowly pulled him towards consciousness. He stayed as he was.

"Kirin...?" he inquired hesitantly.

"Yes..." The reply was soft and alluring.

The temptation was strong. Raj turned round to face her. With anyone else, there would have been no need for words. This situation however, was very different.

"I don't own you, you know."

"I know."

"You don't have to do this," he said very matter of fact.

Her hand came up and gently touched his cheek. "I know."

"I won't lie to you...I don't love you," he told her soothingly as if he didn't want to hurt her feelings. "You do know that don't you?

"I know that too, Engineer Babu. Love has nothing to do with this," she confessed, gently brushing aside a strand of hair from his forehead.

The incongruity of her words and actions confused him. "So why are you doing this?"

He genuinely wanted to know the answer. When he did, his mind had difficulty processing it.

"Because I want to. Is that not reason enough?"

While he pondered that thought, she drew him towards her. Shortly after, they were lost in passion and they did not stop until they were satiated. Finally exhausted, they fell asleep in each other's arms.

When he awoke next morning he was alone in his bed. The smell of breakfast cooking was in the air and Kirin could be heard at the stove tending to pots and pans. He watched her silently for a while, recalling the events of the previous night. He felt happy at the memory until out of the blue he remembered his conversation with Vikram. While he had been critical of his friend's advice concerning Kirin, Raj suddenly realised he had done exactly as advised by his friend. First he had been intimate Kirin. Now he was planning to give her some money when he abandoned her. At that point he felt nothing but contempt for himself for being just like Vikram.

"You ready for breakfast?" Kirin asked on hearing him get out of bed.

She was her usual self. Nothing to suggest what has passed between them during the night. For some reason that irked him, and chipped away at his male ego.

"Yes, I'm famished."

"Good."

When she continued as if the night of passion had never occurred he felt annoyed and his male ego was bruised. "Strenuous activity the night before certainly makes me hungry in the morning. How about you?"

"Don't worry there's plenty to eat. You had better go wash and change quickly. Otherwise your food will get cold."

All that day she gave no hint that she had been intimate with him. The only straw he came away clutching was that she no longer addressed him as malik, preferring now to call him Engineer Babu.

The day he was due to return to Jaipur, he sat her down and explained everything to her. Raj told her he would not be taking her with him right away. He had taken care of matters so that she had somewhere to stay in the meantime. He had been obliged to pay a month's rent for her to stay in the flat, even though she wouldn't need to be there that long. Telling her the money was to cover basic living costs plus some extras he handed her some cash. She didn't argue or protest. Silently she took the money and tucked it away inside her sari blouse.

She now stood outside the flat with him, listening patiently while he fabricated a plausible scenario.

"I have to make arrangements first," he told to her. "It shouldn't take long. A few days from now, perhaps a week at the most, I'll come personally and collect you. You mustn't worry. You'll be ok on your own for a few days, won't you?"

"Yes."

Her reply was emotionless. Raj was so busy concentrating on spinning his lies that he didn't even notice. He just wanted to ensure there were no tears because he didn't wish to handle such a situation.

"You will look after yourself, won't you?"

"Yes."

Kirin watched him climb aboard his motorbike with his few possessions tied to the back of it. She watch him look over his shoulder at her, force a smile and then set off. Within a minute or two he had turned a corner and was lost behind some buildings, on his way out of town. At that point she sighed with disappointment and turned to go back inside her temporary living space.

As soon as Raj was a kilometre down the road, a wave of relief washed over him. He had succeeded where he had feared he might fail. He had managed to walk away from the difficult situation he had found himself in when Kirin had turned up at his door. All that agonising, dread and fear had been for naught.

She had been wrong when she had confidently asserted she would be with him in Jaipur. How could she be if he did not send for her or take her there himself? While the pandit had been well intended, he had been wrong too. Raj had not taken Kirin to Jaipur as a housekeeper; he had not paid a dowry to marry her off, and he certainly was not going to marry her. He was ready to concede that she had been very attractive, quite likeable and assertive. A make-over could have easily transformed Kirin into a glamourous and desirable young women. But as a marriage partner she was the wrong person for him and his family, he told himself, not really wanting to think about societal attitudes to skin colour and caste. All that religious talk about Kirin being a boon from Bhagavn, and their destinies being tied together was just religious mumbo-jumbo. He regretted having temporarily believing it, despite his education and upbringing. She had not changed his life, as predicted by the pandit. Ironically the one person's advice Raj had rejected, was the only one who had been correct. His friend Vikram's suggestion had been the most practical. and of action to be adopted. Raj made a mental note to phone him and thank him as soon as he got back to Jaipur.

On the first couple of nights back in the city, he celebrated with some close friends. Again he had a large choice of bars and restaurants to choose from. It was wonderful to have air conditioning to make the climate more bearable. He also touched base with his parents who were pleased to have him back in Jaipur. However, quite quickly he was back into the routines of a normal work week at the office.

Three weeks after his return and the filing of his assessment report, he had received encouraging feedback about its progress through the bureaucratic maze. The guys at the office however were still making good-natured jokes at his expense about his foray into the rural backwaters of India. They quizzed him about the girls and what they were like. He had told no one except his closest friend Vikram about Kirin. Raj was thankful that episode was over. However, he was still puzzled by Kirin's incongruous behaviour during that solitary night of passion. He didn't dwell on the matter but occasionally he felt twinges of guilt over how he had lied to extricate himself from the difficult situation. Sometimes difficult decisions are sweetened by lies, he told himself.

Friday morning of the third week back flashed past, and the end of the work day couldn't come fast enough for Raj. He was looking forward to the weekend, including dinner with his parents on Sunday. Mid-afternoon he had stepped outside the office for ten minutes to smoke a cigarette. When he got back to his office, Surgeet popped his turbaned head round the door and gave him a broad grin.

"Shaadi Mubarak!"

"Kya?"

"There's a story going round that you recently got married," his colleague from the finance section elaborated.

"Really?"

"Yeh, and you didn't invite anyone from the office!" was the complaint. "The least you could have done was distribute a few boxes of mitaee," he teased.

"Look Surgeet, I'm sort of busy here, so I don't have time for such jokes," commented Raj peeved at the thought of the false rumours.

"If you think I'm joking, Yaar - go ask Meena at reception."

"So you'd rather believe Meena? Take it from me - when I find the right girl to marry, I'll let you know." Raj was not the least bit amused. "My alleged marriage is all in Meena's imagination. You know she thinks she's the best match-maker in Jaipur."

"So how come this imaginary patni is waiting in reception for you to finish work?"

He was so surprised his eyebrows nearly rose as high as the roof. He was incredulous. "What? Surgeet, if this is a joke, it's gone too far - much too far."

"It's no joke, Yaar. She's in the reception room waiting area, right now. I gotta say, you did well for yourself, Yaar. She's an absolute stunner."

There was blind panic written across Raj's face. "Oh s***!" His heart was racing as he gruffly rushed past Surgeet, on the way down to reception.

"Did you forget she was waiting for you?" Surgeet shouted after him, laughing at his friend's predicament.

Along with the feeling of panic there was also dread and disbelief coursing through Raj. He reached reception on the ground floor within a minute of tackling the stairs. He opened the side door to get to the bottom of the unpalatable rumour.

Meena was temporarily away from her desk, thereby avoiding a dressing down from him. However, a beautifully coiffured, elegant young woman in an elaborate red and gold sari sat flipping through the pages of a magazine. On hearing the door open, she looked up. She gave him a sultry smile. Raj could have sworn his heart stopped at that point.

"Engineer Babu...Are you ready to go home now?" Kirin asked, very matter of fact as she stood up.

The colour immediately drained from his face. Open-mouthed, he stared at her in shock. He tried to speak but no words would form, leaving his jaws working silently. When words eventually came out they were banal. "Aap yahan?"

"Beshak, Engineer Saab. Didn't the pandit tell you our destinies were intertwined?" Again she gave him a smile that made him weak at the knees. "And I told you I'd be with you in Jaipur," she said triumphantly. "You can't outrun your destiny."

Devastated, Raj could only ask "But what am I going to do with you?"

"Engineer Saab, please don't start that again..." She came towards him and laid her hand on his chest. "Ghar challein?"

(The End)