Read Online Oleander Girl by Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni - Free Book Online Page B

Agra and commiserated on the vagaries of fate that had landed them here; they described their loved ones—a son in Bahadur’s case, a dead sister in Asif’s; they fantasized about returning to their families, rich and plump, though they knew they probably never would; they listened in consternation to Bahadur’s small transistor as it spouted news about the continuing massacres in Gujarat; careful not to offend each other’s religious sentiments, they discussed the tragedies, concluding that it was madness. Ultimately—because that’s what servants do, sooner or later, willingly or otherwise—they talked about the people who controlled so much of their lives.
    Thus Asif learned that the Roy household was in trouble. The family lawyer was closeted for an entire morning with Sarojini, emerging frazzled, his thinning hair limp over his sweaty forehead. Sarojini-ma wasn’t sleeping well. Often, late at night, she went into Bimal-babu’s bedroom. Cook said she’d taken to talking to herself in there. They were afraid Ma was losing her mind, and then what would happen to the lot of them?
    Asif, too, had news to offer: the Bose household was facing its own challenges. They didn’t discuss it in front of the help, but servants always know. The expensive new American gallery they started just a year ago in New York was having money troubles. Something significant, otherwise why would Rajat-saab have sent his beloved BMW back to the dealer? And Pushpa, Memsaab’s maid, who was sweet on Asif, told him the phone rang at the oddest hours, early mornings, or during dinner. If Pushpa picked it up, there was only a click.
    Tonight Asif says, “I think it’s Rajat-saab’s old girlfriend, Sonia.”
    “What does she look like?”
    “Expensive. Too thin, though those people think that’s glamorous. Foreign-bought clothes, showing legs and all. Eye makeup that makes her look like a witch—but one of those enchantress witches. When he was with her, Rajat-saab acted like he was half-drunk all the time.”
    “I’ve seen a girl like that outside our gate,” Bahadur says, startling Asif into sitting up straight. “She was driving a little foreign car, silver color.”
    “A Porsche. Yes, that’s hers all right.”
    “She stared at the house a long time. I got up to ask if I could help her. But she turned those eyes on me. And then she roared away so fast, she frightened all the street dogs.”
    Driving Rajat home, Asif considers telling him about Sonia. Then he remembers what Pia-missy said after she met Korobi for the first time: “A.A., I think Korobi-didi is a good person. Her face has a shine to it.” That was enough to put Asif, who believes Pia to be rather resplendent herself, squarely on Korobi’s side. No, Asif’s not going to say something stupid that might start Rajat thinking about Sonia again.
    In the backseat, Rajat closes his eyes and sighs. He looks tired. Cheering up this household day after day is taking its toll on him.
    “Take the Strand Road.”
    Asif hesitates. “Saab, that river road is empty so late at night. I hear some bad things happened there last week. One saab was driving when two cars came in front of him and two came behind. They blocked him off and forced him to stop. Broke his windows and—”
    “Nonsense, A.A. Nothing will happen to us.”
    Hearing his secret name on Rajat’s lips startles Asif into compliance. He is sure Pia-missy has never called him that in front of her family; she understands that they would frown on the casual intimacy the nickname implies. Does Rajat-saab, too, have his sources of knowledge? What else might he have learned about Asif? Concern distracts the chauffeur, who had until now believed himself to be invincible in his invisibility. He presses down on the accelerator, turning onto the deserted riverfront, into the night wind.

    I lie in bed with Palgrave’s Golden Treasury of English Songs and Lyrics, which I brought up from Grandfather’s library. The