brought me today?” even though she knows exactly what. “ Linusna ,” he urges, waving the envelope in front of her face. From his bed the Masterji has a partial view of the kitchen, so all he can see is Tarun clasping Didi from behind, his arm over her shoulder; the Masterji sees only a portion of her back.
“ Kina chhaiyo ra? ” Didi says. “It’s not necessary.”
“Here,” he says, and gently pushes the envelope down her blouse.
She turns around to face him and says, “Why do you love your Didi so much?”
With a backward glance Tarun sees that his father isintently observing a spot in front of him on the bed, his concentration so severe that it seems he’s ready to shatter the world. The Masterji has lost a significant amount of weight: the skin on his face has rivulets, and there’s no flesh on his arms. Most days he stays in bed, hacking and coughing. His chest ailments have never left him completely. The number of students he tutors has dwindled, with only an occasional young college-goer or two dropping by. To make up for the reduced income, Didi has found a job as a seamstress at Ladys Fashion in Pako, part-time work to bring some extra income to help with the rent. Money is tight.
Once in a while Amit shows up in Bangemudha when Tarun is there. He enters tottering or with glazed eyes. He, too, has lost much weight, so he’s begun to resemble his father. In Amit, the Masterji has found the perfect person to vent his anger. His face becomes contorted, and he froths at the mouth when he sees Amit. “Take a look, take a look, what a worthless fellow. Are you happy? Are you a tourist in this house? And what nourishment have you imbibed today? Milk? Juice? Vitamins?” Most of the time Amit ignores him, but once in a while he says, “Shut your trap, old man.” The Masterji then launches into another rant.
When Amit sees Tarun, he breaks into a large grin. “Bhai,” he says and stumbles toward him and gives him a big, sentimental hug. “And how is my big-man brother? You’re the only one, I swear, that I’m glad to see in this house anymore.” He doesn’t let go, and either Tarun has to pry him away from his body, or Didi has to say, “If you don’tget off him soon he’s going to start stinking like you.” Amit loosens his grip and stares at Didi. Some days he smiles, as if to say, What a wonderful creature she is .
Amit draws Tarun aside, to a corner, and whispers, “Bhai, alikati paisa bhaye dena ho. Sarai marka pareko chha.”
Tarun knows what the money is for, but he doesn’t demur, only asks how much Amit needs.
Amit acts surprised, “ Arré! That I don’t need to tell you. Whatever his highness can afford to give as baksheesh to his servant, the servant will accept.”
“One rupee?”
“ Bhai , why joke with me?”
Tarun dips into his pocket and withdraws a hundred rupees and gives them to him.
Amit takes the money and genuflects, then slips it into his pocket.
“Fleecing your brother?” Didi says.
“If it were up to him,” the Masterji chimes in, “he’d rob each and every one of us blind.”
Amit tilts his head toward the Masterji while winking at Tarun, as though to say: You know what the old fart is about . Then he tilts his head toward Didi and moves his eyebrows up and down at Tarun while grinning lewdly. “La, la, masti chha, bhai ,” he says to Tarun, slapping him hard on the shoulder. “You have the life.” His hand is still as tough as iron, and it hurts.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
M AHESH UNCLE KNOWS that Saturday afternoons are reserved for Bangemudha, yet it’s on a Saturday that he invites his guests. He informs Tarun only that morning. “Some people are coming over for a visit, Tarun,” Mahesh Uncle says as Tarun is about to head to the office, from where he’ll go to Bangemudha.
“Do you need to go to Putalisadak today?” Mahesh Uncle asks.
“Yes, I must take care of a couple of urgent matters. The bourbon shipment is also arriving this
“ Kina chhaiyo ra? ” Didi says. “It’s not necessary.”
“Here,” he says, and gently pushes the envelope down her blouse.
She turns around to face him and says, “Why do you love your Didi so much?”
With a backward glance Tarun sees that his father isintently observing a spot in front of him on the bed, his concentration so severe that it seems he’s ready to shatter the world. The Masterji has lost a significant amount of weight: the skin on his face has rivulets, and there’s no flesh on his arms. Most days he stays in bed, hacking and coughing. His chest ailments have never left him completely. The number of students he tutors has dwindled, with only an occasional young college-goer or two dropping by. To make up for the reduced income, Didi has found a job as a seamstress at Ladys Fashion in Pako, part-time work to bring some extra income to help with the rent. Money is tight.
Once in a while Amit shows up in Bangemudha when Tarun is there. He enters tottering or with glazed eyes. He, too, has lost much weight, so he’s begun to resemble his father. In Amit, the Masterji has found the perfect person to vent his anger. His face becomes contorted, and he froths at the mouth when he sees Amit. “Take a look, take a look, what a worthless fellow. Are you happy? Are you a tourist in this house? And what nourishment have you imbibed today? Milk? Juice? Vitamins?” Most of the time Amit ignores him, but once in a while he says, “Shut your trap, old man.” The Masterji then launches into another rant.
When Amit sees Tarun, he breaks into a large grin. “Bhai,” he says and stumbles toward him and gives him a big, sentimental hug. “And how is my big-man brother? You’re the only one, I swear, that I’m glad to see in this house anymore.” He doesn’t let go, and either Tarun has to pry him away from his body, or Didi has to say, “If you don’tget off him soon he’s going to start stinking like you.” Amit loosens his grip and stares at Didi. Some days he smiles, as if to say, What a wonderful creature she is .
Amit draws Tarun aside, to a corner, and whispers, “Bhai, alikati paisa bhaye dena ho. Sarai marka pareko chha.”
Tarun knows what the money is for, but he doesn’t demur, only asks how much Amit needs.
Amit acts surprised, “ Arré! That I don’t need to tell you. Whatever his highness can afford to give as baksheesh to his servant, the servant will accept.”
“One rupee?”
“ Bhai , why joke with me?”
Tarun dips into his pocket and withdraws a hundred rupees and gives them to him.
Amit takes the money and genuflects, then slips it into his pocket.
“Fleecing your brother?” Didi says.
“If it were up to him,” the Masterji chimes in, “he’d rob each and every one of us blind.”
Amit tilts his head toward the Masterji while winking at Tarun, as though to say: You know what the old fart is about . Then he tilts his head toward Didi and moves his eyebrows up and down at Tarun while grinning lewdly. “La, la, masti chha, bhai ,” he says to Tarun, slapping him hard on the shoulder. “You have the life.” His hand is still as tough as iron, and it hurts.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
M AHESH UNCLE KNOWS that Saturday afternoons are reserved for Bangemudha, yet it’s on a Saturday that he invites his guests. He informs Tarun only that morning. “Some people are coming over for a visit, Tarun,” Mahesh Uncle says as Tarun is about to head to the office, from where he’ll go to Bangemudha.
“Do you need to go to Putalisadak today?” Mahesh Uncle asks.
“Yes, I must take care of a couple of urgent matters. The bourbon shipment is also arriving this
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