tutorial at this rate. These tutorial classes cost a lot of money, you know.”
"Driving you to college is not bribery. I just want to protect you from bad men. But you didn’t answer my question- what would you gain by doing an MBA?” I glanced at the darkening evening sky outside for ideas. “Men of lose character and morals are on the prowl everywhere these days. Don’t you read the newspapers? Women aren’t safe in our country.”
“Neither are men,” she returned dryly. “Nor kids. Or elders. Who can be safe in this land of crooks and traitors?” She looked at her watch. “RK, drive faster.”
“Anyway,” I said casually, trying to brush aside my mounting tension at her continued aloofness, and reluctantly pressed the gas. “You won't be safe in a job."
She sighed again. I could sense her interest slipping away. “I don't think like you, RK,” she said calmly. “We've to adjust to the world, instead of scurrying around scared. If there are bad men, there are tough women too. Tactfully- and with a little insight- anyone and any situation can be handled.”
My heart sank. The discussion wasn’t going as I’d planned. Before I could think of something else, she picked up her satchel and opened the door to get off. I had hardly noticed that we’d reached her training institute. I didn’t want her to leave yet and fought down my impulse to hold back her hand.
“I'd rather suggest you use your time to get your father's shabby car repaired,” she said, glancing outside to catch sight of any of her course mates. “You seem to have a lot of time. Every joint in this rickety thing creaks. Goodbye.”
"Don't call the car shabby," I snapped irately, holding her hand at last, unwilling to let her go without listening to what I had to say. "At least my father has one. Your father doesn't even own a car. Have you looked at him ride that noisy scooter of his? He can't even balance himself properly. The scooter is a menace to everyone in our society.”
She fell back on her seat as I pulled in and smiled tolerantly as I went on ranting.
“It won't be long before our neighbors start objecting. That lousy machine creates so much noise pollution that a nightclub is quieter in comparison. Every time he kicks the starter, it seems the scooter would fall apart."
Her smile widened at my description and we both shared a laugh. I suspected her laugh was somewhat forced, but these moments were the happiest in my life. At least she had not objected to my pulling her back in.
“RK, you should know where to stop- or jokes become a drag. Your sense of humor could be better- especially after delaying me for my lecture,” was all she quipped finally, but refused to consider my renewed proposal for marriage or say ‘yes’. “Shall I go now? I’m already late.”
“Answer my question and you can go. What’s wrong if I want to marry a pretty girl?” I demanded.
“Nothing wrong, Romeo. But- have you thought about the other side- that the pretty girl might want a handsome man too?”
“Am I not handsome?” I asked with a sense of affront.
She gave me a once over and snorted. “You may fool my kid sister, but not me.”
“I'm handsome,” I insisted. “PS told me so.”
“Either he was a gay or he made an error in judgment.”
I fumed, glancing at myself in the car’s overhead rear view mirror. “What do you mean by ‘error in judgment’?”
“I'm not referring to looks, RK. Don't get me wrong,” she said in a sincere tone, keeping a straight face. “But Rags is any day prettier than me. She's also more interested in fine arts and philosophy. Your interests would match hers. Perhaps you should try proposing to her. You might need to wait though. She’s still not in high school.”
“Look, I’m not applying for a job. It’s a question of my marriage- and yours. Furthermore, Ragini’s your kid sister- more than half a dozen years my junior,” I pointed out. “She’s hardly my size.” I
"Driving you to college is not bribery. I just want to protect you from bad men. But you didn’t answer my question- what would you gain by doing an MBA?” I glanced at the darkening evening sky outside for ideas. “Men of lose character and morals are on the prowl everywhere these days. Don’t you read the newspapers? Women aren’t safe in our country.”
“Neither are men,” she returned dryly. “Nor kids. Or elders. Who can be safe in this land of crooks and traitors?” She looked at her watch. “RK, drive faster.”
“Anyway,” I said casually, trying to brush aside my mounting tension at her continued aloofness, and reluctantly pressed the gas. “You won't be safe in a job."
She sighed again. I could sense her interest slipping away. “I don't think like you, RK,” she said calmly. “We've to adjust to the world, instead of scurrying around scared. If there are bad men, there are tough women too. Tactfully- and with a little insight- anyone and any situation can be handled.”
My heart sank. The discussion wasn’t going as I’d planned. Before I could think of something else, she picked up her satchel and opened the door to get off. I had hardly noticed that we’d reached her training institute. I didn’t want her to leave yet and fought down my impulse to hold back her hand.
“I'd rather suggest you use your time to get your father's shabby car repaired,” she said, glancing outside to catch sight of any of her course mates. “You seem to have a lot of time. Every joint in this rickety thing creaks. Goodbye.”
"Don't call the car shabby," I snapped irately, holding her hand at last, unwilling to let her go without listening to what I had to say. "At least my father has one. Your father doesn't even own a car. Have you looked at him ride that noisy scooter of his? He can't even balance himself properly. The scooter is a menace to everyone in our society.”
She fell back on her seat as I pulled in and smiled tolerantly as I went on ranting.
“It won't be long before our neighbors start objecting. That lousy machine creates so much noise pollution that a nightclub is quieter in comparison. Every time he kicks the starter, it seems the scooter would fall apart."
Her smile widened at my description and we both shared a laugh. I suspected her laugh was somewhat forced, but these moments were the happiest in my life. At least she had not objected to my pulling her back in.
“RK, you should know where to stop- or jokes become a drag. Your sense of humor could be better- especially after delaying me for my lecture,” was all she quipped finally, but refused to consider my renewed proposal for marriage or say ‘yes’. “Shall I go now? I’m already late.”
“Answer my question and you can go. What’s wrong if I want to marry a pretty girl?” I demanded.
“Nothing wrong, Romeo. But- have you thought about the other side- that the pretty girl might want a handsome man too?”
“Am I not handsome?” I asked with a sense of affront.
She gave me a once over and snorted. “You may fool my kid sister, but not me.”
“I'm handsome,” I insisted. “PS told me so.”
“Either he was a gay or he made an error in judgment.”
I fumed, glancing at myself in the car’s overhead rear view mirror. “What do you mean by ‘error in judgment’?”
“I'm not referring to looks, RK. Don't get me wrong,” she said in a sincere tone, keeping a straight face. “But Rags is any day prettier than me. She's also more interested in fine arts and philosophy. Your interests would match hers. Perhaps you should try proposing to her. You might need to wait though. She’s still not in high school.”
“Look, I’m not applying for a job. It’s a question of my marriage- and yours. Furthermore, Ragini’s your kid sister- more than half a dozen years my junior,” I pointed out. “She’s hardly my size.” I
Similar Books
