The hall, with a faint smell of lavender in the air and clever lighting, bore a festive look. Some of the guests, winded after the brave effort at strenuous dancing, left the floor.
The colonel strolled up to the music player and, minutes later, the music changed to a sexy waltz. A loud cheer went up as, notwithstanding his limp, Acharya put aside his cane to steer Ramola to the impromptu dance floor which had been created by pushing the furniture back against the wall. Ahuja claimed Ramola’s hand for the next dance. Bowing out gracefully, the colonel pulled Laila towards the centre of the hall, and the couple began waltzing to the haunting notes of ‘The Blue Danube’. From the corner of his eye, an amused Acharya observed Tia trying to keep the leering Rohan at arm’s length.
Arif’s eyes swept through the chamber before settling on the tall and trim colonel in sartorial splendour combining a navy-blue, double-breasted blazer and grey trousers with a maroon silk scarf knotted stylishly around his neck. The short, thick mop of salt and pepper hair was parted to a side, adding distinction to the debonair appearance. He was now standing by the makeshift bar, leaning on a rosewood cane, his hand resting lightly on its brass eagle head. The don stared ruefully at his own crumpled suit and wished he had had the time to get it ironed.
Arif tried to fit the names with the vocations of the guests he had met so far. Although a bit muddled about the names, their professions, however, came easily enough to his mind. There was a judge, a professor, an army officer, a doctor, a director, an actor and a politician at this strange birthday party. No two persons were from the same profession, except the actors. Quite a medley! Arif’s eyes alighted once again on the slender, young lady flitting among the guests. Her infectious laughter rang pleasantly through the hall.
Where on earth did Ramola find her? The girl had the attitude of a city girl. He could recognise them from a mile.
Across the room, the portly professor with a kindly face, was chatting with an elegant and pretty woman. The retired judge tapped his feet in rhythm with the music, watching the dancers. The doctor, an amicable man in a leather jacket, a long forelock falling over one bespectacled eye, was engaged in an earnest conversation with Vikram. Arif noted the suave politician chatting with an attractive lady. He seemed to be making the right impression, too. The woman threw back her head and laughed. A leopard never changes its spots!
‘Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention, please? It’s time for the birthday girl to cut the cake,’ Tia announced, tinkling a spoon on a champagne flute.
The volume of the music abated to a muted background sound and the guests converged towards the epicurean work of art that was the birthday cake.
‘Let me begin by thanking everyone for taking time out of your hectic schedules to come here. A big round of applause to Arif, Sammy and Suby, who decided to surprise me!’ said Ramola. ‘I know it isn’t an easy journey.’
Ahuja noticed she hadn’t mentioned Rohan or his name, in her list of busy people. The director bowed and Sammy raised his hand in acknowledgment.
A burst of applause filled the room as she cut the cake and blew out the candles. As if on cue, everyone burst into the ubiquitous birthday celebration song.
‘The first piece of the cake is for the person who transformed a young innocent into a worldly woman.’
Arif didn’t miss the sarcasm. ‘That’s not a compliment,’ he protested.
‘It isn’t meant to be one, janab.’
No one missed the undercurrents of their exchange.
‘The next piece is for the director who gave me the big break, price-tag attached, that turned me into a star …’
The dig took Suby by surprise. He chewed his lower lip ruminatively.
‘…and this is for the big star who scorned me once.’
Ramola smiled at Vikram as her jibe found its mark. All eyes swung in his direction and Vikram shifted his weight from one foot to the other. A cold fury rose within him. She had no right to insult him in public.
Ramola continued to feed a piece of the cake to each of her guests, punctuating each with a sardonic remark.
‘Here is a piece of the cake for the politician, who doesn’t believe in nurturing other’s dreams.’
Sammy’s face flushed and his hands balled into fists. An uncomfortable silence filled the room.
Tia stepped in to diffuse the tension in the air.
‘Here’s a piece for the birthday girl,’ she said, feeding a small slice to Ramola. ‘This is my humble gift to the best employer in the world,’ she announced, handing her gift to Ramola – a bouquet of wild flowers and a handmade card.
Touched by the gesture, Ramola hugged the girl, ‘Thank you, Tia. It is the most thoughtful gift I’ve ever received.’
Her mood mellowed and the birthday girl smiled brightly. ‘I am sorry if I offended some of you with my comments. It was not my intention to upset anyone.’
‘You were just being your usual bitchy self,’ retorted the politician.
‘No offence meant, Sammy.’
‘None taken,’ he responded magnanimously.
‘We are the two chequers on her dartboard tonight,’ muttered the Don sotto voce.
‘I am beginning to get the message,’ commented the politician in an undertone. ‘We were invited here for a purpose.’
The colonel watched as the politician turned to a side. Surreptitiously, he squeezed a drop of hand sanitizer into his palm and rubbed his hands together.
So, the senator suffers from OCD (obsessive compulsive disorder), Acharya chuckled to himself. Vibes of animosity, though camouflaged, reached the colonel.
‘I’m pretty thick-skinned, so it is difficult to offend my sensibilities. Here’s a peace offering to prove my words,’ said Arif, as he strutted across the room, pulling out a tiny case from the depths of his pocket. With the flourish of a magician, he extracted a sparkling diamond pendant strung on a fragile chain and presented it to the star.
‘It’s exquisite,’ Ramola squealed in delight as she held the ornament in her hands. ‘It must’ve been very expensive.’
‘Never mind the price tag,’ he commented. ‘Let me see it around your neck.’
‘Won’t you help me with it?’ Ramola pouted, drawing her hair over one shoulder and turning around.
His fingers trembling, the king of the underworld fastened the chain around her slender neck. She still had that effect on him.
‘Thank you, Arif, it is the most beautiful piece of jewellery I’ve ever worn,’ she said, pirouetting to show off the solitaire nestling tantalizingly in her cleavage. Clearly, she was over the moon with her gift.
As if on cue, the politician walked towards Ramola. ‘Now that the gifting ceremony has begun in earnest, let me add a tiny trinket to your coffer,’ he smirked. A pair of emerald and diamond earrings lay nestled in velvet within the delicate case held open in his hand.
Watching the reaction of the women in the room, Sammy congratulated himself for the impulsive purchase that had cost him a packet. A couple of months ago, during his trip to Surat, Sammy had spotted them in one of the more exclusive jewellery shops. The expensive baubles had lain forgotten in his vault until the day Ramola had invited him for her birthday. The suddenness of his decision to attend the party had left him no time to buy a gift. Then, he remembered the earrings.
‘You shouldn’t have … Sammy, this is much too extravagant,’ Ramola held up a earring against her ear, delightedly. ‘I feel overwhelmed with emotion.’
‘I think you deserve much more.’
‘You are so sweet, Sammy,’ Ramola reached up and kissed him on the cheek. ‘This is an unforgettable birthday. Not because of the gifts you have brought but because you have taken the time to make this day special. Each of you has played a significant part in shaping my life and I wanted you to know that.’
‘A nice little speech,’ Sammy’s eyebrows arched, and his lips twisted in a sardonic smile. ‘I think it’s high time you joined politics. Perhaps you could apply for a membership in our party.’
Arif sniggered. He hated the bigot.
‘You should wear the earrings,’ suggested Laila Acharya. ‘They go well with your dress. Here, let me help you with them.’
‘You are a lucky woman,’ said Uma watching Ramola as she preened in front of the one of the innumerable mirrors in the hall.
‘I think you should put these away in your locker,’ the judge suggested. ‘We don’t want our friend, the venerable colonel, to miss our card games to investigate yet another jewellery theft.’
‘Maybe, I should entrust the jewellery to Tim’s care,’ smiled Ramola. ‘It will give me an excuse to pester him.’
‘I am sure my nephew doesn’t need you to harass him,’ chuckled the judge. ‘The poor boy suffers enough of it from his boss.’
The gifting ritual was not yet over.
‘Now that you are loaded with expensive trinkets, may I present my humble gift?’ remarked Sen, walking towards the birthday girl.
‘Stop being theatrical,’ Ramola laughed.
‘It’s a professional hazard, my dear.’ He drawled.
Ramola looked at the two small packages in his hands and raised her eyebrows questioningly. ‘You’ve brought me two gifts?’
‘They’re a collection of her movies,’ he explained for the benefit of the guests, who were looking curiously at the packages.
‘Why, that’s the most wonderful gift. It was really thoughtful of you to have taken the trouble and effort, Suby,’ the star clapped her hands in delight.
What a ham! muttered Arif. No wonder she was a successful star.
‘I wondered whether you had a collection of your movies.’
‘No. I’ve been meaning to get one but never really got down to doing it.’
‘The other is a collection of my movies – an exercise in narcissism.’
‘While the two narcissists exchange views, let’s drink to Ramola’s health,’ said Sammy, moving towards the bar, where the colonel had taken charge as the bartender.
‘May I offer you a drink? What is your poison?’ asked Acharya, expertly mixing a cocktail for himself.
‘What are you having? It looks interesting.’
‘I prefer Daiquiri,’ replied the colonel, pouring out the cocktail. ‘We, in the army, like our Rum.’
‘Martini is my preference, but I will try a Daiquiri tonight.’
‘One Daiquiri coming up,’ smiled Acharya. ‘Let me know if you like it.’
They were joined by Ahuja and Rohan, who requested for a peg of whisky each. They clinked their glasses and watched the drama unfolding around them.
Perched on a bar stool, Rohan looked disdainfully at the men making a fool of themselves. Their expensive gifts didn’t make any impression on him. He had brought no gifts to woo the woman, who was already wedded to him.
‘What did you bring for the goddess, Ahuja?’ Rohan asked in a low voice.
‘Mine is an ordinary gift. I can’t afford diamonds and emeralds,’ replied Ahuja, staring into his glass of whisky. ‘Although I’m afraid it may provoke ridicule rather than appreciation.’
From his post behind the bar, Acharya gazed at the effeminate director. His thick mop of hair tied back in a ponytail, Sen’s long and artistic fingers were gesticulating gracefully as he spoke. He had read somewhere that Italians talk as much with their hands as their mouth and Sen seemed to fit that description perfectly. Come to think of it, he does look like the Italian guide who showed us around Verona during our trip to Italy! The colonel enjoyed studying people from a distance. It provided an insight into their characters. Human behaviour was a complex thing, it often gave away the innermost feelings, thoughts and motives of a person. Masks slipped, emotions surfaced, body language and facial expressions revealed what the brain would have liked to conceal.
The party warmed up. Drinks were poured, snacks served and decibel levels began to rise. The guests settled down in different parts of the room with their favoured drinks in hand. Acharya left the bar to Ahuja, who was drowning his worries in another peg of whisky, and ambled around the room, listening to the conversations of people.
Sammy was engaged in serious discussion about hypertension with the doctor.
‘High blood pressure is a professional hazard. I have been subjecting my system to medicine for the past ten years although I know that most hypertension drugs bring a host of side-effects with them.’
‘Not taking the medicine will cause more harm to your system,’ replied Sunil Rawat. He launched into a list of damages that could be caused by hypertension.
Arif and the judge were discussing crime and punishment. ‘I think the law always lags one step behind the criminals,’ opined the mobster. It was an interesting and lively discussion because the two men stood on opposite sides of the fence.
‘That’s preposterous,’ retorted the judge, who prided himself on his legal expertise. ‘That’s only in the movies. In real life, no criminal is smart enough to get away. He may elude the long arm of the law for a while, but it always manages to catch up.’
‘Let’s be honest,’ argued Arif, ‘there must have been moments of frustration in your career when you realized there was not enough evidence against a known criminal and you had to let him go.’
‘That has never happened to me. Let me narrate an anecdote to justify my statement …’
Glass in hand, Rohan loped over to Tia, who was standing alone in a corner, speaking softly into her phone. Her expression conveyed anxiety. The girl had been the focus of his attention ever since she was introduced as Ramola’s secretary.
‘Hi there!’ he claimed Tia’s attention. ‘May I chase away the worried frown from your beautiful face?’
‘What makes you think I am worried?’ she countered,
putting the phone back in the pocket of her long sleeved, fern-green dress.
‘The expression on your face is a dead giveaway, my dear. By the way, green suits you. It makes you look young and vulnerable.’
‘…And I thought blue was my colour,’ Tia chuckled.
‘I am sure you look good in every colour.’
‘Thank you.’
‘So, what brings you to Ramsar? I don’t think it is exciting to work as a secretary to Ramola.’
‘You are mistaken. It is quite a challenge to keep pace with Ramola. She is a power house.’
‘I was told that you are a journalist on a sabbatical. So, why work with her?’
‘One has to pay for one’s food and shelter, even on a sabbatical. Besides, she is a very interesting woman.’
‘…But you are more interesting than her.’
A virtuoso in the art of flirting, he soon had her eating out of his palm. She giggled at his jokes, threw him coquettish glances from under her lashes and even twirled a strand of her beautiful hair around her fingers. Arif, who had also been eyeing the girl, noticed their interaction.
Gigolo! muttered the don, as he broke away from the judge and made his way to the bar to fetch a glass of juice. He was tired and desperately needed sleep. At the bar, he found Sen and Ahuja sparring about popular versus meaningful cinema.
‘A glass of juice? Why, Arif saab?’ Ahuja commented, pouring another peg of whisky for himself.
‘Alas! I have been denied the pleasures of alcohol by my heartless physician. Besides, my religion forbids alcohol.’
‘Religion forbids many things, Arif saab,’ quipped Sen. ‘You will have to give up a lot if you go by the tenets of your religion.’
‘I think you were talking about cinema before I diverted you. May I join the discussion?’ Arif asked.
‘Of course, it will be good to know your views on the subject.’
‘Well, I feel movies are a business just as any other. Only a movie that rakes in the moolah can be termed good.’
‘My thoughts precisely,’ Ahuja beamed with pleasure at this unexpected ally in the discourse.
‘If that were so, not a single memorable movie would have been made,’ said the director, clearly not pleased with the duo’s point of view.
A cigarette dangling from her manicured fingers and a Champagne flute in her hand, the birthday girl flitted from one group to the other, cracking a joke or pressing another drink on her guests. She was the perfect hostess.
‘I thought you had quit,’ remarked Rohan, when Ramola materialized beside Tia and the girl gestured to the bar and moved away. He desperately needed to worm his way back into Ramola’s good graces in order to extend his stay in Ramsar. The prospect of a comfortable life coupled with a fling with Tia were tantalizing.
‘You’re absolutely right. I gave up smoking a couple of years ago, but this is a special evening,’ replied Ramola, as she blew a cloud of smoke into his face, mocking him. ‘Are you scandalized?’
‘Nothing you do can scandalize me,’ he retorted. ‘Don’t forget I have lived with you for a couple of years.’
‘I’m just surprised you accepted my invitation with such alacrity, Rohan. And where is Ekta? You should have brought her, too. Isn’t she your latest benefactress?’
‘I don’t have a benefactress,’ he replied, still smiling.
‘So you say.’
‘You are trying to provoke me, but I won’t rise to your bait.’
‘You won’t dare.’ Ramola stubbed out the cigarette in an overflowing ashtray on the side table. ‘Now, what could you possibly want from me this time?’
‘That’s unfair, Ra. You misjudge me,’ protested Rohan.
‘Do I?’ Ramola’s perfect eyebrows arched. ‘I can read you like a book. Should I spell out what’s exactly on your mind?’
‘You’re impossible,’ he growled. ‘What was the important announcement, you were going to make?’
‘Ah, is that what you’re excited about? I am sure you will be disappointed when it comes.’
‘Do you have to be so nasty?’
‘Am I being nasty, my pompous pet?’ she asked.
He stormed off leaving Ramola shaking with malicious mirth. She delighted in needling him.
The colonel, standing apart, was closely monitoring the interaction between the sparring couple. The hostility in their exchange surprised him and he frowned. His intuition had never been wrong. Rohan stomped past him and rejoined Tia, who was perched on a stool at the bar.
Tim and Nikhil, late arrivals, walked into the room, interrupting the stream of the colonel’s thoughts. Ramola sashayed to the young men, her dark eyes caressing the dapper policeman.
She likes Tim, thought Acharya studying the woman’s body language. He knew that the young man had met her a few times, during her walks and shopping trips to the local market. He was aware that they liked each other’s company. Tim had told him so, but the rascal had kept his deeper feelings under his hat. The fact that the young man had been trying to find excuses to call Ramola or meet her, was not a secret. The judge and his wife had been teasing their nephew about the matter. I won’t be surprised to find that, like every other man, he is smitten. The colonel was fond of Ramola, but he had known Tim for a longer time. The guy was emotionally gullible, and Ramola was reputed to be a cougar.
‘The party for this year is over, Tim,’ the star pouted, flirting full-throttle. ‘You are too early for my next birthday.’
‘Sorry Lara, I was caught up in a case,’ Tim apologized. ‘Nikhil decided to keep me company until I finished the task.’
Lara? Acharya’s eyebrows disappeared into his hairline in surprise as he eavesdropped shamelessly. Something is brewing between Tim and Ramola. Why am I not surprised?
Lara was what Tim called her, and Ramola loved it. No one had ever called her that. ‘Why Lara?’ she had asked when he first called her by that name.
‘It’s an anagram of the first and last two letters of your name. I fell in love with the name ever since I watched Dr Zhivago. All these years I’ve been looking for someone to name Lara and then I found you. The name fits,’ Tim had explained.
Ramola led the two young men to the bar where Arif, Sen and Ahuja were still debating the merits and demerits of a good script. The colonel’s son was handsome but the policeman was an Adonis and looked like a Hollywood star, noticed the director.
‘The party is almost over, young man,’ commented the don after the introductions had been made. ‘The cause for your tardiness has to be a woman.’
‘You could say that, I guess,’ agreed Tim, pouring himself a shot of whisky. ‘Crime plays a major role in my life. It’s just as fascinating as a glamorous woman.’
‘Crime? Here in Ramsar? Are you serious?’ Arif’s brows rose towards his receding hairline. ‘I thought this place was a Utopian heaven.’
‘You’re right. Most of the time Tim is busy twiddling his thumbs, but once in a while there is a theft or some drunkard gets into a brawl.’ The judge joined them at the bar.
‘What is it this time?’ asked the colonel, who had come for a refill. He was excited at the prospect of solving another interesting case. ‘Not another theft, I hope.’
‘It’s a theft alright. History is being created in Ramsar,’ laughed Tim.
‘You mean it was a dacoity?’ Arif’s eyes crinkled with mirth.
‘Nothing of the sort. Someone broke into the local liquor shop and stole a few bottles of expensive whisky, that’s how bad it is.’
‘I think you should search Ganesh’s room. He could be the culprit,’ suggested the judge.
‘I hope not,’ chuckled Ramola. ‘I need his services tonight. He’s at liberty to drink himself into a stupor tomorrow. Besides, I think he is more at home with the local daru than imported whisky.’
Just then, the man in question entered the room with an innocuous tray of snacks and everyone broke into laughter.
‘Here’s our man,’ remarked the colonel. ‘I won’t be surprised if he has been siphoning off your whisky.’
‘Enough talk of whisky. It’s time to pop the champagne,’ said Nick, flashing a bottle of Moet and Chandon he had inveigled from the barkeeper. ‘It’s perfectly chilled.’
Everyone clapped and cheered as the birthday girl, assisted by the young officer, popped the champagne.
‘To Ramola,’ they raised a toast. ‘For a long and happy life …’
Nick’s eyes alighted on the young girl chatting animatedly with Rohan, across the hall. He had bumped into her at the marketplace a couple of times, but hadn’t been formally introduced.
‘The object of your attention happens to be Tia, my secretary,’ said Ramola noticing his interest in the girl. ‘Let me introduce you to her.’ Taking him by the arm, she made her way to Tia.
Rohan, clearly displeased at the interruption to his cosy tête-à-tête, threw her a dirty look.
‘Rohan, you have been monopolizing Tia forever. It’s time you circulated among the other guests,’ Ramola admonished him. Turning to Tia, she said, ‘this is Nick, Captain Nikhil Acharya, currently posted at Almora.’
Nick squeezed Ramola’s hand gratefully as Rohan reluctantly moved away.
A smiling Tia turned to Ramola and whispered, ‘Thank you for saving my life. He is such a leech.’
‘I know all about him, darling,’ purred Ramola. ‘I endured him for two whole years, remember?’
A minute later, the birthday girl made her way back to the bar.
‘Take it easy, angel eyes,’ said Tim, as the birthday girl poured herself a third drink. ‘It would be terrible etiquette for the hostess to fall asleep while her party is still in full swing.’
Their eyes met and Ramola felt a delicious tremor running down her spine. ‘Ever the cautious policeman,’ she mocked. ‘Tonight I don’t care. Tonight I won’t worry. Just for tonight let me revel, let me dream,’ she crooned. ‘It’s my birthday, Tim,’ her eyes danced mischievously.
‘I know it is your birthday but is there another reason for your happiness?’
‘Of course, there is …’ she threw him a coquettish look.
‘…may I know what it is? Or is it a state secret?’
‘Ah, you’re curious, aren’t you? By the way, where is your gift?’
‘I’ve brought you a token gift. You will have to wait until Sunday for the real gift,’ he teased.
‘Hey, the birthday is today!’
‘The gift is worth waiting for. In the meantime, here’s the token gift,’ said Tim, producing a tiny amulet from his pocket. ‘It is a good luck charm from the land of the Pharaohs. It will ward off all evil.’
‘Awww! It’s beautiful,’ she exclaimed, examining the intricately carved hieroglyphs on the talisman. ‘I’ve always wanted something like this. From where did you get it?’
‘My mother picked up the talisman while on a trip to Cairo. I inherited it after she passed away.’
‘This definitely is the most precious gift of the evening,’ she murmured, clasping it around her arm. ‘Thank you, Tim.’ Her heart somersaulted as she looked into his serious blue-green eyes. ‘And now tell me about the other gift – the one that will come on Sunday.’
‘Hey, you know what curiosity did to the cat. You will have to wait for it.’
‘Give me a clue, at least.’
‘You can’t wait, can you? That’s the problem with most people. They have no patience.’
‘Do you have patience?’ she asked.
‘Lots and lots of it.’
‘Tim, you are so cruel.’
‘Not as cruel as you, though,’ Tim teased.
By mutual consent they moved into a secluded niche by the decorative potted plants. ‘Please, Tim, tell me,’ she blandished, a trifle tipsy by now.
‘I guess you won’t enjoy the party unless I let the cat out of the bag,’ he sighed. ‘It’s a pup, actually. Well, a friend of mine has four cute cocker spaniels waiting for adoption. You wanted a puppy, didn’t you? I have selected the cutest one for you. It is the colour of champagne, to match your eyes.’
Ramola squealed with delight and planted a kiss on his cheek. ‘You’re an angel, Tim. I can hardly wait.’
‘Give me two days. I promise it will be with you on Sunday. In the meantime, you can think of a nice name for it.’
‘Oh, you’re so adorable,’ she lisped. ‘Speaking of names, why are you called Tim? It is such an unusual name for a Kumaoni.’
‘Didn’t anyone one tell you? Just about everybody at Ramsar knows about it.’
‘Well, I haven’t exactly been gossiping about men and their unusual names.’
‘It’s Timothy, actually. My mother was an Irish lady who fell in love with Ramsar as well as the local policeman while visiting this place. It’s an unusual love story.’
‘Tell me all about it,’ she insisted.
‘She was a social scientist working on a project in this area. It was monsoon season and she was travelling in a shared cab to Ranikhet, where she was to take up an assignment. My father was travelling by the same cab, to the same place. A massive landslide on the road held up all traffic and stranded everyone for several hours. The time spent together drew them together and they exchanged phone numbers, promising to remain in touch. One thing led to another and soon they were seeing each other regularly. To cut to the chase, by the time her assignment was over the two of them had decided to get spliced. Yours truly is a product of that love story.’
‘That explains the colour of your eyes. I wonder if history will repeat itself,’ Ramola sighed meaningfully.
‘I am waiting for it to repeat itself,’ Tim’s voice was husky with desire.
‘We’ll just have to wait and see,’ said the film star. She gazed at the sexy cleft in his chin, strong arched brows shading a pair of mesmerizing eyes and luxuriant eyelashes and sighed longingly.
‘You are a handsome man, Tim,’ Ramola murmured.
‘Also a lonely man,’ he whispered into her hair. His breath smelled of whisky and desire.
‘No girlfriends?’ she teased. Both of them had had several drinks too many.
‘Tell me, are you as uncomplicated as you look?’ he asked.
‘I am anything but uncomplicated. My life is a mirror, splintered into a zillion shards. I am still gathering up the bits. Coming to Ramsar has helped, but I have miles to go before I am complete.’
‘I will help you collect the pieces.’
‘That’s very sweet of you.’
‘I’m dreaming, of course,’ he sighed. ‘You’ll never be able to give up a charmed life for an ordinary policeman.’
‘Why should anything change? We can be together without changing anything.’
‘You don’t believe in permanent relationships, I guess.’
‘There are no permanent relationships, Tim. Most of us delude ourselves. The only certainty in life is death.’
‘That’s horribly cynical.’
‘When you’ve had to deal with as many blows as I have, you are bound to become a realist,’ she replied.
‘Well, I am an optimist,’ declared Tim.
‘Good for you.’
‘Do you believe in destiny?’ he asked.
‘Sometimes,’ her voice was uncertain.
‘If you do, consult Uma Uniyal,’ he said, giving her a quick peck on the forehead. ‘She is a clairvoyant.’
‘Interesting! Should I seek her help to untangle my life?’
‘Is your life tangled?’
‘Perhaps,’ she shivered. Her eyes were deep pools of mystery – dark and unfathomable.
‘Are you cold?’ he was concerned.
‘No, just a little tired of the shindig.’
‘There you are, Ramola,’ Sen barged into the alcove. ‘I’ve been looking all over for you. What about that announcement you promised to make during the party? I’m all agog.’