The Tiffin by Mahtab Narsimhan Page A

again,” said Vinayak quietly. “Besides, I’ve already made arrangements to get you a job.” He winked at Kunal, but didn’t elaborate.
    â€œWhat is it?” asked Kunal, not the least bit happy with the news. He wanted to be a dabbawalla. Nothing else would do. He could think of no other way to find his mother.
    â€œUh-uh,” said Vinayak, shaking his head and smiling. “You’ll have to wait just a little bit longer.”
    â€œTell me now!” said Kunal. “Mrs. Seth was always hiding things from me; she hid the most important information of all. Why do people do that?”
    â€œThere you go, being dramatic again,” said Vinayak. “Calm down, I only wanted to give you a nice surprise. I was going to tell you after dinner.”
    Before Kunal could ask more questions, their food arrived and along with it the massive proprietor. He lowered his bulk into a chair, which groaned in protest. Fragrant steam rose from mutton cutlets sandwiched in a bun. Kunal looked at it without much appetite.
    â€œSo,” said Rustom, “this is the boy you were talking about. Kunal, isn’t it?”
    Vinayak nodded as he pushed a plate towards Kunal and started on his own meal.
    Rustom’s large hand shot out suddenly and he squeezed Kunal’s biceps. “He doesn’t look like he can last one hour on the job,” he said, “let alone a whole day.”
    â€œI’ve seen him work at the dhaba, which supplied my customers’ tiffin lunches,” said Vinayak through a mouthful of food. “He’s a fast worker and very good.And he can last a whole day, maybe more! Ummm, this cutlet is good, Rustom.”
    â€œWhat job?” asked Kunal, looking from one to the other.
    â€œHmmm,” said Rustom. “Not too bright, either.” But there was a twinkle in his eye.
    Vinayak put down his bun and swallowed the mouthful. “I’ve asked Rustom to hire you.Think you can do it?”
    â€œI used to work a ten-hour shift,” said Kunal. “I can do it.” He watched Rustom carefully, his stomach in knots. Till this afternoon he had been jobless and now he had the chance to get a decent job and to earn a livelihood.
    â€œLet’s see if you’re up to it,” said Rustom, thumping the table with his palm. “I’m off tomorrow so you can start the day after.”
    â€œSeriously?” asked Kunal. He looked from Vinayak to Rustom. “You mean that?”
    â€œOh yes, I do,” said the proprietor. “One more thing: I look after my boys and feed them well, but I work them hard.”
    â€œI won’t let you down,” said Kunal.
    â€œGood!” said Rustom. “You start work at sharp seven in the morning. I’ll pay you fifty rupees a month.You work six days a week and you get one weekday off. We all work Saturdays and Sundays since they’re the busiest. If you fall sick, I take it out of your pay. Any questions?”
    â€œYes,” said Kunal.
    â€œI was just being polite,
gadhera
,” said Rustom getting to his feet. “Make it quick.”
    â€œCan I work the afternoon shift instead of the morning?” said Kunal.
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œI’d like to go with Vinayakji to the station every morning. You know, just to help out with the tiffins. I hope you don’t mind,” Kunal said, glancing at Vinayak.
    Vinayak’s face was unreadable but he gave a brief nod. “I’m okay with it if your new employer is.”
    â€œAll right then,” said Rustom. “Afternoon shift it is. Come in at noon and work till midnight. Got it?”
    â€œThank you,” said Kunal. “Er ... one last thing: what’s a
gadhera
?”
    â€œYou’ll find out soon enough,” Rustom called over his shoulder. He hurried to his usual spot behind the counter where customers were starting to line up.
    Vinayak was chomping on the last of his bun