“Really?” he asked interestedly. “You’ve seen them?”
“Do I put my hand in the fire to check if it’s hot? All day long he scratches. And not just his head. Problems at both ends — worms at one, lice at the other. So take my advice, stay away if you know what’s good for you. His uncle is safe, he’s almost bald, but you have a nice thick thatch, the lice will love it.”
Dina’s advice went unheeded. As the days turned to weeks, the afternoon break at the Vishram Vegetarian Hotel became a regular affair for the three. Once, Maneck was delayed in returning from college, and Om whispered to Ishvar that they should wait for him.
“My, my,” said Dina, overhearing. “Postponing your tea. Are you feeling well? Are you sure you will survive that long?”
Ishvar reflected upon why it annoyed Dinabai so much, their going off together. When Maneck arrived and Om leapt up from his Singer, he decided to stay behind. “You boys go, I want to finish this skirt.”
Dina was all praise for him. “Listen to your uncle, learn from his example,” she said to Om as the two left. She poured Maneck’s tea into the segregated pink roses cup and brought it to Ishvar. “You might as well drink it.”
He thanked her for her trouble. He took a sip and remarked that Maneck and Om were getting on well, enjoying each other’s company. “They are both the same age. Om must be fed up being with his old uncle all the time. Night and day we are together.”
“Nonsense.” She said that in her opinion, if it weren’t for the uncle’s steadying presence, Om would turn into a wastrel. “I only hope he is not a poor influence on Maneck.”
“No no, don’t worry. Om is not a bad boy. If sometimes he is disobedient or bad-tempered, it’s only because he is frustrated and unhappy. He has had a very unfortunate life.”
“Mine has not been easy either. But we must make the best of what we have.”
“There is no other way,” he agreed.
From that day, he stayed behind more and more while Dina continued to make tea in Maneck’s name but poured it in Ishvar’s cup. They chatted about matters both tailoring and non-tailoring. His half-smile of gratitude was always something she looked forward to, with the frozen half straining to catch up as his face beamed at the pink roses along the rim of the saucer.
“Om’s sewing is improving, hahn, Dinabai?”
“He makes fewer mistakes.”
“Yes yes. He is much happier since Maneck came.”
“I am worried about Maneck, though. I hope he is studying properly — his parents are relying on it. They have a small shop, and it’s not doing well.”
“Everybody has troubles. Don’t worry, I will talk to him, remind him to work hard. That’s what these two young fellows have to do, work hard.”
Ishvar noted that the tea breaks upset Dinabai no more. It confirmed his suspicion, that she was longing for company.
The boys’ conversation inevitably took a different turn when they were on their own. Om was curious about the hostel Maneck had abandoned. “Were there any college girls living there?”
“You think I would leave if there were? They have a separate hostel. Boys are not allowed inside.”
From the Vishram they could see a cinema advertisement on a roof across the road, for a film called
“Why is it called
“They could have called it
“Should be fun to see it.”
“Let’s go next week.”
“No money. Ishvar says we must save.”
“That’s okay, I’ll pay.”
Om searched Maneck’s face while drawing on the beedi, trying to decide if he meant it. “No, I can’t let you do that.”
“It’s okay, I don’t mind.”
“I’ll ask my uncle.” His beedi went out and he reached for the matches. “You know, there’s a girl who lives near our house. Her breasts look like that.”
“Impossible.”
The outright dismissal made Om study the poster again. “Maybe you’re right,” he yielded. “Not exactly that big. They always paint them gigantic. But this girl has a solid pair, same beautiful shape as that. Sometimes she lets me touch them.”
“Go, yaar, I wasn’t born yesterday.”
“I swear she does. Her name is Shanti. She opens her blouse and lets me squeeze them whenever I like,” he said, giving his imagination free rein. Seeing Maneck laugh and slap his knee, he inquired innocently, “You mean you’ve never done that to a girl?”
“Of course I have,” Maneck answered hastily. “But you said you live with your uncle in a small house. How would you get the chance?”
“Easy. There is a ditch at the side of the colony, and lots of bushes behind it. We go there after dark. But for a few minutes only. If she’s away longer, someone would come looking for her.” He puffed airily at the beedi as he fabricated explorations that involved Shanti’s hair and limbs, and complicated excursions into her skirt and blouse.
“Good thing you’re a tailor,” said Maneck. “You know all the ins and outs of clothing.”
But Om continued undiscouraged, stopping short only of the final foray. “Once, I was on top of her, and we almost did it. Then there was a noise in the bushes so she got scared.” He drained his saucer and poured more from the cup. “What about you? Ever done it?”
“Almost. On a railway train.”
It was Om’s turn to laugh. “You’re a champion fakeologist, for sure. On a train!”
“No, really. A few months ago, when I left home to come to college.” Catalysed by Om’s fantasies, Maneck’s inventiveness took the field at a gallop. “There was a woman in the upper berth opposite mine, very beautiful.”
“More beautiful than Dinabai?”
The question made him pause. He had to think for a moment. “No,” he said loyally. “But the minute I got on the train, she kept staring at me, smiling when no one was watching. The problem was, her father was travelling with her. Finally night came, and people began going to sleep. She and I kept awake. When everyone had fallen asleep, including her father, she pushed aside the sheet and pulled one breast out from her choli.”
“Then what?” asked Om, happy to enjoy the imaginary fruits.
“She began massaging her breast, and signalled for me to come over. I was scared to climb down from my berth. Someone could wake up, you know. But then she put her hand between her legs and began rubbing herself. So I decided I had to go to her.”
“Of course. You’d be a fool not to,” Om breathed hard.
“I got down without disturbing anyone, and in a second I was stroking her breast. She grabbed my hand, begging me to climb in with her. I wondered what was the best way to get up there. I didn’t want to jolt her father’s berth underneath. Suddenly there was a movement. He turned over, groaning. She was so frightened that she pushed me away and started snoring loudly. I pretended I was on my way to the bathroom.”
“If only the bastard had kept sleeping.”
“I know. It’s so sad. I’ll never meet that woman again.” Maneck felt suddenly desolate, as though the loss was real. “You’re lucky Shanti lives near you.”
“You can see her one day,” said Om generously. “When you visit me and Ishvar. But you won’t be able to talk
