‘Wait. Call me the father of a daughter.’
‘Then why did you order laddoos?’
‘What if my happiness isn’t any less?’
No one expected Jayant Deosthali to say that. It shut them all up. Deosthali was happy in his own world.
He didn’t stop at the laddoos. He ordered a special meal for the entire staff the following Saturday. He announced a prize of ten rupees for anyone coming up with the most unique and charming name for his daughter.
The staff suggested exotic names, but finally an old name masquerading as a modern one was chosen for the newborn. Packets of laddoos were distributed with a small note that proclaimed: ‘Devyani’.
Panse bagged the prize of ten rupees.
Within two days, a beautiful album did the rounds of the office. Devyani was lost in a crib overflowing with flowers. Colour photographs were also expected within the next few days.
Deosthali’s joy knew no bounds. His enthusiasm could not be curbed. He behaved as if he had conquered the universe. Every day, he would give the staff a running commentary on how Devyani was growing up.
The staff would get to see her progress through photographs circulated every month. Most of them were full of admiration, but there were a few snide remarks as well.
But he wasn’t bothered.
He was just happy.
For her first birthday, he threw a grand party where the entire staff was invited. Devyani was drowned in presents once again. Everyone attending the party agreed on one count – Devyani was truly beautiful. She looked like a princess.
Her father was quite right to be so proud of his lovely daughter. And the daughter enjoyed being the apple of her father’s eye.
Devyani turned two years old.
Jayant Deosthali was made the branch manager of his office.
Every Saturday afternoon, his chauffeur would bring Devyani to the office. It was a welcome relief for the office staff. She would come in like a princess. She knew where her father’s cabin was and would walk confidently towards it, ignoring the calls from the staff. If someone tried to catch her, she would run towards the cabin. Her shoes would squeak when she walked. The entire staff would be enchanted at the sight of her in cute little shoes and socks. Her lisping small talk would entertain everyone. Like a flute whose notes rise above the rest of the orchestra, Devyani’s voice could be heard by all. Deosthali had one firm rule: to take Devyani out every Saturday afternoon. He would finish with his Saturday afternoon meetings in the morning itself, to be free to spend time with her. And he would treat the staff to a sumptuous breakfast each Saturday morning so that they wouldn’t object to this change of schedule. Devyani’s loving behaviour had made everyone in the office her fan.
She would extract favours: Dandavate had to give her chocolates, while D’Souza, the typist, would give her a round eraser. The watchman would give her a coin, and Pinto would hand over a paperweight. Randive would willingly extract his tie pin for her, and Billimoria’s table calendar would be submitted for Her Majesty’s entertainment. She would collect all the gifts and stand outside her father’s cabin. Deosthali, despite having seen her entering the office, would wait patiently for her to knock on the cabin door. He would then open the door and take her into his arms, keeping her haul on his table. If anyone entered the room then, they would see Devyani sitting on the revolving chair and Deosthali on the floor, turning it round and round. Everyone had full permission to enter the room without prior appointment.
Devyani was growing rapidly.
Jayant Deosthali’s reputation in the office was growing as fast.
The staff not only enjoyed the mild distraction, but had started depending on it for their happiness.
One day, one of the chief accountants said,
‘Deosthali saheb, now that Devyani is four years old, we need real laddoos.’
Deosthali laughed away the suggestion. But the chief accountant was not so easy to brush off. He said,
‘I’m worried about Devyani.’
‘I don’t get you… I’m taking good care of her.’
‘But she needs a companion.’
‘I’m there for her.’
‘There’s a limit to your being there for her. You can play with her. But you can’t fight with her.’
‘You should see the way I fight with her. Come home some day.’
‘Do you scratch her?’
‘What sort of crazy suggestion is that?’
‘Do you push her? Do you bite her? Do you pull her hair?’
‘Nonsense!’
The chief accountant lost patience and said,
‘That’s what I’m trying to tell you. What you call nonsense is what they want. These are parts of growing up: the fights, the injuries, the games. They learn to defend themselves, to take care of themselves.’
‘I’ll think about it.’
The chief accountant was satisfied with that assurance and pushed a file which needed Deosthali’s signature towards him. As he signed the pages, Deosthali looked at Devyani’s picture on his table. He had made a promise to her. He repeated it in his mind. ‘Don’t worry, beta. I won’t allow anyone to come between us and share my love.’
The news of Jayant Deosthali having refused a promotion spread like wildfire through the office. Katdare, who was about to retire soon, came into his cabin.
‘Please sit, Katdare saheb. You’re elder to me. Please don’t stand. It’s embarrassing. I’ve told you earlier as well.’
‘You are senior to me.’
‘But you are my father’s age.’
‘Can I ask you something?’
‘Please.’
‘Why did you refuse the promotion?’
‘I would have to tour a lot if I accepted it.’
‘It’s just a matter of three or four years.’
‘Not a small period.’
‘You’d get a chance to see the entire country.’
‘I have no such fascination.’
‘Maybe a foreign posting too…’
‘No glamour in that.’
‘But why?’
Deosthali didn’t answer him but took his spectacles off and began wiping them with his handkerchief. Then he put them back on. Katdare looked at Devyani’s new photograph on the table and said,
‘Sir, can I take the liberty of saying something?’
‘Please.’
‘So much attachment is not good.’
Deosthali laughed and said,
‘Don’t misunderstand me, Katdare. I know what you’re hinting at.’
‘I’m saying this from experience. After
