Madhu didn't know how to feel about this. She was wearing a dead woman's clothes and worse, they were eight years old.
Ashok came on to his feet, holding the plate, the glass and cup in his hands. He took hers as well for she had finished eating as well.
"I know how it sounds."
I hope you do.
"But they have been washed. There's something about me. Even though," his eyes glimmered under the CFL lights, "it's been eight years I make sure Baba washes Waheeda's clothes every three days, all of them. Her memory is etched on my soul and this little practice of mine, albeit crazy, gives me satisfaction."
From disgust her emotions had grown towards pity as he left for the kitchen. She felt bad for blaming the man, wracked and broken by the loss of a loved one.
Also, the clothes really didn't smell bad. They were cleansed really well.
He came from the kitchen, declaring in a happy but still struggling voice, "well it's still raining. And it's late. I would suggest you sleep here while Baba..." he signaled at the kitchen, "will clean the dishes. I just woke him up from his room. He's kind of pissed." He smirked.
Madhu didn't hear anything in the kitchen but it really didn't matter for she began to follow Ashok up the stairs for the guestroom. And it turned out to be the same one she had taken a bath in. It was on the first floor, close to Ashok's room. There was a bamboo straw chair and two water bottles kept on the table for the night.
She turned to say goodbye when she realized they were standing quite close. He stepped back when he realized the situation and just scratched his perfectly tousled hair. "I might not be there in the morning. I have to go for groceries and all of that. But I'll tell Baba to drop you off at your house in my car."
"Oh," she mouthed and somewhere she was disappointed at the prospect of not seeing him there the next day.
"What about my car?"
"I'll get it fixed. Just give me your address or a number; I'll drop it off for you."
"I'll leave my flat's address before I leave," she responded.
"All right."
"All right," she smiled. "Thank you for everything."
"No, thank you," he said.
She frowned, "Why?"
"For making me realize that company with a beautiful lady is better than peaceful nights to myself." He bowed again, the very embodiment of respect. "We will meet again if destiny allows."
And with that, he walked away and she was left with the receding echoes of his parting words.
*
Early next morning, Madhu came out of the bungalow in her previous day's clothes. Her purse was on the side table, with her cell phone as well. She had found them close to her bed when she had woken up.
She walked to the Ambassador car that was hulking in size. A man was cleaning it with a wet washcloth. He was hunch-backed, with a thick white beard covering more than half of his face. His eyes had thick bags underneath them, with his pale hair slipping out of his hat.
"Hello," Madhu greeted the man, assuming he was Baba.
He just growled and walked towards the door of the car and opened it for her. She sat inside and Baba moved towards the driver seat, starting the engine and making his way towards the jungle.
Now in sunlight, the place looked different. At night the bungalow was ominous but now it just had a sad, damp look about it. Even the jungle which gave her cold tremors last night looked ordinary this morning. And then she passed her car, still smashed against the tree and in the light she could see how bad it looked, with its bonnet almost detached from the front.
"How much would it cost?" she asked even though she knew she didn't have enough money.
Baba growled, "Sahab will take care of it."
"Well it's not sahab's responsibility."
"Sahab's responsibility," he grumbled.
She scowled and leaned back on the posh leather seat. She didn't like how she was being forcefully helped but then she didn't have much option. If he ever meets her, she'll make sure to repay him.
The jungle passed and soon they were on the main road. For some reason, the never-ending stream of cars, the smoke from the trucks, the horrifying MNCs scared her now. It was like coming back to reality. She passed the toll and soon reached the Delhi Cantonment, where she asked Baba to stop the car so she could go by metro.
"Sahab said drive to house."
"Why?"
"Because your car needs to be dropped too. I want to know the address to drop."
Oh. That makes sense. But she did leave her address and number on a piece of paper before leaving from there.
When they were close to her building, she looked at Baba, her eyes fixed upon the rear view mirror to see him more carefully. But Baba avoided her gaze, driving carefully the entire time.
"Can you give me the landline number?"
He didn't respond. When the car stopped outside the colony, she got off with a feeling of relief, glad to be away from the old man.
"Tell your sahib I'm grateful for his benevolence," she smiled. "And tell himâtell him that my name is Madhuparna Mukherjee."
TO READ MORE, VOTE AND COMMENT. NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE POSTED TOMORROW.