The Teen-N-Ties Lovers - Chapter 3 - First Call

The mother and daughter were good friends too. They shared and confided in each other. It had been many years the mother had been left single to raise two children by herself. The older son had moved out a couple of years ago and lived across town with his young family, in their new house. Now that the daughter had just about finished high school and the mother was scaling back her work outside the house, they both had some time to devote to the task of finding a partner for themselves. The mother had encouraged her to meet and get to know some boys outside her usual circle as well - not that she thought her daughter’s male friends were not good enough, but so that the daughter herself would have a chance to meet boys from a wider circle and then get to choose the one for her. Later, she would not have regrets at not having had the chance, if she took up with someone she already knew.

They looked out for each other and shared ideas and tips to make it a safe and sensible process. It was good that they got along so well and could easily work out disagreements without rancour or drama.

The daughter went to the mother’s room and showed her the cartoon sketches on the carton. The mother looked at it and laughed, “Who sketched this? It is interesting.”

The daughter told her how she had met the E_.  The mother then showed the daughter the note she had received.

“Mumma!! Who wrote you this?”

“Well, it was a gentleman. At least he looked and behaved like a gentleman who finds me attractive,” said the mother, “We will need to plan if we want to call them back and if we want to meet up and chat with them in person. It is best if we first give them a call and see how it goes. Even if we decide not to pursue these, it will at least put them out of their misery, just waiting without knowing.”

“Ok, I will call later tonight and see how I feel about him,” said the daughter.

“If you decide you want to meet him, it is best to meet in a public place. Let us make both our meetups the same day and at about the same time at the mall.  Say, this Friday evening around. 7pm. Make sure you have your outgoing callerID on the phone, turned OFF, when you call,” said the mother with her typical cautious approach.

“Who first?” asked the daughter

“Let’s meet my man first, about 15 minutes before yours so that we can both get to focus and pay attention to each,” replied the mother feeling that it would be a good thing to have an older man to help check out the younger one as well.

Later that night, Junior’s phone rang.

“Hey! Who is this?” asked Junior as he was chewing some food.

“Hullo? Is this the monkey-boy named E_?” asked a girl’s voice wondering why the voice at the other end sounded so strange and a bit choked.

“Heeey!! So it is you, Squinty Girl!!” managed Junior.

“I am normally not squint-eyed,” laughed the daughter, “And my name is P_.”

“Nice! So tell me about yourself, P_,” asked Junior.

“Well, I was hoping you will tell me more about yourself. I guess you are older than 18. I am eighteen too. Look, I am not desperate to hook up with someone, but would like to get to know more people as friends before getting serious or committing to one. I liked your sketch. It is funny but good too, Monkey-boy!” said P_.

“That is cool. I liked your face Squinty and thought it would be nice to get to know you,” said Junior, trying to appear casual, cool and not too eager. He was however, thrilled to hear from this girl.

They went on to chat a bit more, gradually easing into a friendly chat as the young can, by talking about the common things they liked and disliked, in the common vocabulary and slangs that let the other know that they belonged in the ‘cool’ crowd as well.

Somehow, with many short, ungrammatical, incomplete sentences going both ways, liberally interspersed with the word -‘like’ as in ‘I like said’, ‘and she is like “I am not happy” and so on, the two somehow communicated essential, useful information about each other. He was just out of high school, lived with his parents, worked a job as a paid apprentice with a motorcycle mechanic and while studying full time. The daughter revealed that she worked at a local supermarket part-time and was looking to study to be an accountant.

The youngsters also expressed a desire to meet each other and made an appointment the following Friday at 7.30pm at the same mall they had first met, in the food court. Junior asked for and got 7.30pm instead of 7.15pm as P_ had first suggested. This gave the impression that he was not too eager and also gave him time to show up well groomed. Junior got off work only around 6 pm and he wanted to go home, shower and make himself presentable with the carefully cultivated casual look, before he showed up.

Meanwhile, the phone rang in Senior’s house as well.

“Hullo! Hullo-ji, Yeh Kaun Hai (Who is this)?” asked Senior as he could not see any caller-ID.

“Hello! Is this Mr. R_?” said a sweet, woman’s voice.

“Haan-ji, Main R_ hoon. Kya Chaahiye (Yes, I am R_. What do you want)?” asked Senior, not recognizing K_’s voice and thinking it was perhaps a telemarketer calling.

“Oh-ji, Main tho aapki, Gorgeous K_ bol rahin hoon,(Oh, I am your Gorgeous K_ speaking),” replied K_.

“Oooh-ji, Namaste! Namaste! Aaap ho! (It’s you!) Good to hear from you,” said Senior, suddenly feeling a bit nervous, like he used to in his days as a young school boy. He sat down at his study desk. It helped him focus properly on one stream of thought and not get distracted by the things around his house.

“Accha-ji (Good), So is this a good time to talk? Or should I call you later?” asked K_.

“No problem. This is a good time. I was just about to sit down and watch the news, but it can wait,” said Senior, “I hope we can get to know a bit more about each other.”

With complete and mostly grammatically correct sentences, the two confident but slightly shy adults communicated essential, useful information about each other. He was semi-retired, working casually, helping his grown-up children with their businesses and their very young children. She worked part-time now as an office assistant at a nearby doctor’s office. She was now starting to find a bit more time to herself, as her daughter was growing more independent and learning to drive around by herself. The mother still was teaching her driving. The oldies too decided to meet for an evening meal at the mall on the following Friday at 7.00pm.

So, the stage was set for them all to meet. Senior and Junior were still unaware that fate had thrown them together again.




Copyright  (c) Kannan Narayanamurthy 2016
All rights reserved 

The Teen-N-Ties Lovers - Chapter 2- First Approaches

First Approaches

Senior and Junior were both, as yet, unaware of the other’s loss of heart. Each had received a signal from their girl, of some kind of mutual interest. All Junior had to and read was “She likes me too”. He had pulled a silly face as his signal and the girl had NOT mimicked throwing up or an expression of disgust, but a given a mischievous smile and pulled a massive squint-eyed face as she sipped her drink. It was so exaggerated that her mother had asked her - “What is the matter with you?”

For Senior, obviously, such tactics would not work. He and his ‘girl’ had a more sophisticated signalling protocol. The woman understood that a decent bloke would not look long enough for it to be classified as a stare or make her uncomfortable. He could also not pull monkey faces and hope to attract a mate. He would want to know if she was available and interested. All she had to do was to look at him just long enough to let him know she had noticed him and paid attention to him. Her smile was meant to convey that the result of her attention was - she liked what she saw thus far and would favourably consider getting to know a bit more about him before deciding if she liked him at all. It also confirmed that she was not already ‘taken’. If her stare at him had lasted a fraction of a second more or less, or if the expression following it had been even slightly a bit different, it would have conveyed entirely different messages, ranging from ‘OK, you think I am pretty, but move on’ to ‘Don’t you even dare think about it’, to ‘Sure, I know I look good and you don’t look too bad yourself, but -Sorry! I am happy where I am, not interested.”

The two smitten males now planned their first approaches to make contact and some kind of connection, hoping it was something that could be pursued.

Junior was, without being aware of it, burdened with a lot of issues that Senior did not have to worry about - the vital importance of appearance of ‘coolness’, the need to mask his fear of rejection by making it a joke and the fact that parental approval was still essential for anything to have a chance of working out, wondering what kind of girl this was, could he ‘afford’ to woo her etc. So, Junior worked on a rather convoluted method of trying to get the essential exchange started - Name and Number (phone number).

Senior had no such issues, but different ones. He did not feel the need to appear ‘cool’ always. Neither he nor the lady would worry about rejection as much as they had faced a lot more in life than that. They both were secure and confident enough in themselves and financially. They knew they could ‘afford’ to woo each other. Senior chose a more direct and simple approach.

Junior got up and went over to various shop counters, begging around until he found a pen from the assistant. He tore off a flat piece of the carton he got his food in. Then with exaggerated motions and repeated looks at the young lady of his attentions, he seemed to be sketching a picture of her as an artist would. She could not fail to notice him doing it, almost a dozen people noticed him doing so, even Senior, who was not aware of his situation. The girl giggled looking at him from a distance, in between eating her meal, striking various poses for him to sketch without letting her mother become aware. Junior ‘finished’ his sketch and then moved his seat closer to the nearby rubbish bin kept in the food court. Then he pointedly set the piece of carton face down on the table in front of him. He then moved over to the next seat with his food. He kept making silly faces and his antics made some little kids next to him laugh. He was, lucky for him, sitting behind the mother so that she could not see him.

Senior and the mother exchanged another quick look at each other. She quickly averted her eyes downwards as she saw he had caught her looking at him. She smiled barely and it seemed to him that he could see her blushing right through her ‘face paint’ as he usually called it. Senior opened his backpack and took out a pen and little notebook. That is one of the big differences between the teens and the ‘ties. The old ones carry a pen and notebook with them in their handbags or backpacks. That is their definition of being cool, as opposed to the young who would not want to be caught dead with a pen or notebook on them. They do not realize the limitations of their smartphones. Men and women have been making ‘first contact’ for over a million years, long before smartphones and this new generation might be the one who might lose this valuable basic instinct! However, as I write this, I hear that they are coming up with ‘apps’ that will help the next generation use a smartphone to mysteriously ‘sniff out’ interested potential mates among total strangers within a range of a 100 feet! Sounds scary to me!!

Senior smiled to himself as he wrote down his name, phone number and a little note on it, knowing that ‘she’ was watching him. He looked up half-way while writing and saw her looking at him directly. She covered her mouth to hide her wide smile and she averted her gaze towards her food. Senior then tore off the sheet of paper, folded it over twice. He left it on the table in front of him.

Soon, the ‘mother’ finished her meal, picked up her tray and came over towards Senior. The lady was headed towards the rubbish bin that she could see behind Senior. She approached him smiling, looking at him, as she intended to pass him by. He quickly got up and moved to the aisle, blocking her way as if he too was headed towards the rubbish bin. She stopped in her tracks, holding her tray, still smiling.

“Hello! I am R_. It is nice to meet you. Sorry to be blocking your way. Excuse me just a second,” Senior said. He picked up his little note and dropped it in her tray. He then sat back down, clearing her path.

She walked by smiling. He could hear her laughing behind him. He knew she had a choice, whether to read his note or dump it in the bin. He turned around to see her put the tray on top of the bin, pick out his note, thrust it in her pocket, empty the tray and stacked it. Then she took out his note from her pocket and read it and laughed again.

“Nicely done! I am K_. I will call later.” she whispered as passed him by on her way back to her table.

While this was playing out, the daughter took the opportunity to ‘finish’ her meal and dispose of her meal tray in the bin near Junior. As she approached him he reached out and turned his work of art face up. The girl saw it. Surprise and shock was evident on her face. Her eyes widened. She could not stop smiling. As she came close to the table, she leaned over to look at the artwork more closely. Then she burst out laughing.

“Do I really look like that?” she asked

“You did to me,” Junior replied cheekily.

She put away her rubbish in the bin, stacked the tray and turned around. She deftly picked up the piece of carton and tucked it in at her side. She pulled and stretched her long T-shirt over it to cover it from view.

“Call me if you dare!” said Junior.

“Or if I care,” she teased.

Both Senior and Junior were still so focussed on their own eye-candies that they did not notice what was going on in the other’s life.

Later that evening, the mother and daughter were at home, each lying on their bed alone and looking at the notes from their suitors.

The mother had a simple, neatly written note, in clear handwriting that said -”Hello! I am R_. It was nice to see you and to see you seeing me. If you consider it appropriate, please call me or write to me. I would like to get to know you if you too are interested. I am in my fifties and you don’t look a day over 40. I look forward to hearing from you, you gorgeous creature! - R_ <phone number and email>”

The daughter had a piece of food carton with a stick figure sketch of a grossly squint-eyed girl with devil-horns, sipping a drink, standing next to a tree from which a monkey was dropping her a note with Junior’s name and phone number written on it. The phone numbers were apparently trailing off the note in a line and some were still falling behind it, suspended in the air. The sketch of the girl bore a recognizable resemblance to the daughter while the monkey’s expression bore an equally recognizable resemblance to Junior. The monkey had a little shirt with the number ‘18+’ on it with a lit candle on top and the name ‘E_’ underneath the candle.

Both mother and daughter laughed.

Note that teenagers want to be treated as adults and try to push up the perception of their age in others - anyone from thirteen to nineteen can call themselves a teenager, but most of the youngsters will try to pass for the top end of the scale so that they can do all the things adults are allowed to.  Anyone from forty to forty-nine can still claim to be in their forties. The '-ties' agers - in their forties, fifties and sixties will try to pass for the lowest end of the scale. If they are actually fifty, they will make sure they pronounce the TY clearly and let others know there is no other digit after that. Once past fifty-five, they can keep referring themselves as in their fifties until the day they turn sixty.



Copyright  (c) Kannan Narayanamurthy 2016
All rights reserved 

The Teen-N-Ties Lovers - Chapter 1 - At First Sight

They both fell in love, so to speak, at same exact moment in time. It was love-at-first-sight for both of them. The objects of their respective affections just happened to be mother and daughter! Here is how it happened.

Junior was eighteen and Senior was in his fifties. Senior was standing on the crowded escalator in the shopping mall when an impatient Junior came up behind him and said, "Excuse me Dada-ji!(Grandpa) Can I pass you by?"

While the young man was really trying to be polite and courteous, Senior was offended that someone would assume he was old enough to be his grandfather just because he had nearly-all-white hair and just because did not dye his hair to look closer to his actual age! He had never dyed his hair even though he had started to going prematurely grey in his twenties. It was not fair, nay, it was rude of the cocky young snot-nosed punk to assume his age just from behind! In his resentment, Senior overlooked the fact that the young man was actually being considerate and not pushing past as a few others had done. He turned around slowly and awkwardly in the crowded moving escalator to look at this immature youngster, instead of simply shifting to the side and letting him pass. The delay in the desired response further added to the perception in Junior's mind that this was an old man, perhaps hard of hearing too.

"Dada-ji (Grandpa)!  Excuse me please!" he repeated, speaking a bit louder this time.

"Hey, Who are you calling Dadaji? I am young enough to be your father. And I am not deaf," Senior said in his gruff voice and looked at the tall but baby faced teenager with his first moustache barely growing in, with soft, down hair on his lips and chin.  Any younger and yes, he might have been justified in using the term Dadaji!

Looking at the relatively younger looking face from upfront and close, the young man was surprised and mentally thought that yes, it might have been wiser to use the term 'Uncle-ji'. Even older men would have been flattered and happy to let him pass by quickly. Now it was too late.

"Sorry, Sir, no offence, Can you slide over a bit so that I can get past?" asked Junior smiling a bit cheekily. Like most teenagers, he appeared to be in a great hurry and late for some 'important' work that was utterly useless to the world at large.

Senior instinctively moved to one side and Junior was past him in a flash, shouting, "Thank you, Sir!". He took two steps before he came up on two really old ladies with their walking sticks, holding large, full shopping bags, standing abreast of each other. 

Junior was now stuck ahead. 
He started again,"Excuse me Dadi-- Aunty-ji(started out to say Grandma and corrected himself halfway to say Aunty)! Can you please move aside and let me pass?"

The two old ladies, feeling flattered, turned around smiling to look at the young man. One look at them and the young man knew it was better to wait for a few seconds behind them to reach the end of the escalator. He also realised that using the term Dadiji  would not have been inappropriate in this instance.

"It's OK! Koi baath nahin (Does not matter)," he said.

Looking ahead at the way the two old ladies slowly turned around to see Junior and realizing the predicament he was now in, Senior could not suppress a chuckle! They were certainly old enough to be addressed as grandmothers! The young man was apparently a quick learner. 

"Accha Hua! (Good thing happened!) Looks like he cannot wait for a few seconds until we reach the end. What is the mighty hurry? Is he going to perform emergency brain surgery? Kids need to learn patience these days!" muttered Senior to himself.

Now, it so happened that Junior was not in a hurry for any particular purpose. It was the way he moved. As they reached the end of the escalator, the ladies slowly but expertly stepped out of the moving platform. Suddenly, people were piling up behind them. Junior landed right behind them and had to hold and hug them before sliding to one side. The two ladies cleverly each went in opposite directions just as Senior almost bumped into Junior. He had to hold on to him and one of the ladies. It all looked like an intimate dance. 

When the rush cleared, Senior walked over to a bench opposite one of the stores and sat down to catch his breath. He was not in a hurry. He was headed to the food court in the mall for lunch in a few minutes. Junior had disappeared somewhere.

Senior sat back and watched the people passing by. He realized that he loved it. He had always liked people watching since his younger days. When he was in his teens only girls who were about his age caught his attention instinctively. They were eye candy for him. Over the years, through some painful experiences, he had learned to look out for the mothers, aunts, grandmothers, fathers, brothers and grandfathers who were accompanying the objects of his attention and often policed gawking. He had always been surprised then at how ugly parents could produce such good-looking children. He had gradually refined the art of people watching without being offensive or clumsy. He also had learned to let go of those who appeared older than himself. When one is a teenager, an age difference of an year or two seems huge and insurmountable especially if you knew the girl was even a few months older. When in one's fifties, a decade this way or that does not seem to matter at all! Still, when someone seemed a couple of decades younger or older, they were no longer interesting to him. They felt like they could be his children's friends or belonging to the previous generation.

Senior had noticed a change in himself in the past few years since he had been single and found time to people watch again, after a long gap. Now, it was not the young pretty girls who were eye candy for him, it was those who were middle-aged. If at all some young pretty girl came into view, he quickly instinctively started to seek out their mothers or aunts who might be accompanying them. They were the ones who sparked an interest in him. He still  had to look out for partners of his eye candies who were already 'taken'. He could now see the 'mature beauty' in the person who once looked like their own children now did. He now thought he knew the difference between youth and beauty.

Senior had a relaxing few minutes before heading out to the food court. There were many stalls selling food around a central seating area. He went over to his usual, regular seat with his order. 

Senior set down his tray then set down in backpack in the vacant seat next to him. He then sat down and looked straight ahead in the far side of the next table, facing him was a woman who was obviously within his range of interest. She had shiny dark-brown hair (obviously dyed and very well groomed), well made-up face with red-lipstick shaping attractive lips and in a dark green dress that contrasted attractively against her creamy exposed arms. She was looking down at her food and hence he could not see her eyes, only the well applied eye-shadow that had an alluring shine with long eyelashes.

Soon, she looked up and said something to someone sitting across the table, in front of her, with her back to Senior. That is when Senior even noticed she was with someone, who seemed to be a younger person. As he glanced at that person, Senior spotted Junior sitting a few tables away, facing him with a silly wide grin (smirk) on his face. For a moment Senior's blood pressure rose upon spotting Junior who seemed to be taunting him. Then he realized that Junior was perhaps smiling at the young person sitting in front of  Senior's own eye candy. He turned to look in her direction and saw a stunningly beautiful face looking back directly at him. As the lady realized Senior was returning her gaze, she did not turn away or flinch. She continued to look at him unblinkingly for the longest second Senior had known in his life and then she smiled at him. At that instant he lost his heart but still had the presence of mind to smile back.
 It so happened that at that very instant Junior caught the attention of the person sitting in front of Senior's object of attention. It happened to be her daughter who seemed to find Junior's attention to her liking. Junior too lost his heart at that very instant.

Now begins the saga of the two men in love - one in his teens and the other in his -ties. Let's see how they each go about following their hearts.

Copyright  (c) Kannan Narayanamurthy 2016
All rights reserved 

Dinner With The Billionaire

The talk at the pub, with my drinking buddies, turned to how people became happier as they grew wealthier, starting out from poverty. Someone voiced an opinion (quite cliched by now) that perhaps there is a point after which, additional wealth does not mean increased happiness, and a point beyond which additional wealth actually caused more unhappiness. He had in mind the issues of how to protect, manage and handle the wealth, its effects on the children, grandchildren, relatives and friends, their motivation to do things in life for themselves etc.

M stated quite confidently, "As man moves from poverty, from not meeting his bare needs, to meeting his needs and maybe some wants, has enough to support himself comfortably and then some, his happiness should increase, right?"

"I guess different people are different, some are satisfied or happy with little and even while working for more. Others aren't and hence still miserable. It is a problem with their attitude and outlook. They are not reasonable people," P said.

"Fair enough, but I will frame the issue in another way then," I said with a sly smile.

I continued, "I too find people often will appear unhappy no matter how much they have, even beyond meeting their needs easily. Just to be clear let me state I am not talking about their unhappiness in their personal life or relationships or in issues of their own making or attitudes. Is it reasonable to always expect a normal person to be content, thankful and happier for what they have, if they are able to meet all their basic needs, many of their wants? Say they are in the top five percent of the wealthiest people on earth?"

"Of course! Yes! Such a person should be happier than one who is struggling to make ends meet!" we almost had unanimity. Everyone else agreed with this wholeheartedly. There were a couple more at the table that I knew had worked their way up from grinding poverty. They were all grateful to their fate in life and definitely happy about their growing wealth.

"While that may be the general case, I think it is perfectly possible for a reasonable, intelligent and sensible person to get very miserable, even more miserable as their wealth increases. I know of circumstances that make it understandable for a person to bear poverty easier than great riches," I said mysteriously.

"Oh! Come on! You are just saying something contrary, in your usual way, just to sound different,"

"No! I am not simply saying it," I said confidently.

"Then prove it!" P challenged me.

"Ok, I will tell you a true story. A story of my dinner with a billionaire," I said.

"Oh, it's another of his stories," joked M, but he was still keen to see me prove my point.

I paused to give everyone a chance to get a drink, settle back in their chairs and listen.

***************************************************************************

Dinner with the billionaire

"You are invited for dinner with the 'Big Boss', Sadiq! This weekend!" I told the quiet unassuming man who stood in front of me. Sadiq, the old reliable driver, was always there for the people in the company. As long as anyone could remember, he had always been available on call - days, nights, all seasons and in all weather. No one could recollect an instance when he had ever refused or declined a request to come over and drive people around Mumbai. He did it with a smile, professionalism and with a kind of caring that money cannot buy. The company had always paid him reasonably well and it would seem he could live comfortably. He lived alone. Occasionally people had heard about his family in far-off Afghanistan when they asked him about his personal life. Often, they asked out of courtesy and did not pay much attention to what he said. He too had figured it out early on and learned to respond politely but briefly, to the point and move on.

The previous week, when it was the worst of weather, raining non-stop for days, with power-failures, the worst traffic jams and flooding in most parts of the city, Sadiq had picked up the 'Big Boss' from the airport, not being fully aware of his position, stature or wealth, and shown him around their factory, offices and the tourist sites before driving him back to the airport for his flights around the country. The 'Big Boss' too had asked him  briefly about his family and had actually paid attention to what he had said. He had grown to like Sadiq and had probed subtly. The big man, who was a billionaire many times over was so impressed with Sadiq, that he had requested him as his driver at every opportunity during his stay in Mumbai. He was a man who quickly recognised and valued quality in people as much as in products and services. It was certainly a trait that contributed immensely to making him extremely successful in business and wealthy as a 'side-effect' as he put it.

Unknown to Sadiq and even to us in senior management, there was actually a small shadowy private entourage accompanying the 'Big Boss' in addition to the public one seen in the news. No one knew all the members exactly or even how many there were. It was all part of the private security 'cover' that was always around him. Some were seen and visible, but some were not. They were surprisingly discreet and experts in their work. Many were locals.

We all, in the company management, had heard legendary stories about how the 'Big Boss' had tackled and dealt with the best and worst of humans that he had come across in business and life. Being noticed and being specifically invited to dinner with him was a rare honour. To the few who had received such, it had often meant a change of fortune in their own lives.

Sadiq, did not seem aware of any such thing, as he gave his toothy, guileless smile upon hearing the news. He had heard that one should never refuse an invitation by the 'big people' so that they have a good feeling about the company and its people. He felt he was doing his part in keeping up the impression of the company. Since, I had managed the division under which Sadiq worked and I had known Sadiq for many years, before he was issued an official invitation, I had been tasked with the job of finding out if Sadiq would be available and free to have dinner and meet with the 'Big Boss' during the only time he could make available.

"Bade Saab ('Big Boss'), is a good man. It is nice of him to invite me. Convey my thanks.When and where is the Khana (dinner)?" asked Sadiq.

"Sadiq, it is on saturday evening, at the Taj Palace Hotel. We need to be there by 6pm," I said watching Sadiq carefully. He had been to a few dinners with some in the company and had accepted all kinds of treatment with equanimity.

"Saab, when should I pick you up?" asked Sadiq, probably thinking that I needed a ride to the dinner of the 'high officials' and had wangled an extra dinner for him as a reward for driving him on the weekend.

"Sadiq! I will pick you up and drive you over there," I said smiling.

"Saab! Kya mazaak karthe ho (Sir, What are you joking about!!. Why will you drive? I am the driver, I will drive," Sadiq said with an expression of being teased, but smiling at me.

"Well, Sadiq, I was not joking. Seriously, why don't you let me drive? I feel like it. I want to. You can have a break and rest, for the day," I said in a more serious tone than I would have liked, just so that he would not think I was still kidding or dare to protest.

"Theek, hai Saab (Ok, Sir). I suppose you will have some drinks and will need me to drive you back safely. No problem, Sir! Aap ki gaadi aur shaandhaar hai (Your car is certainly more glamorous)." said Sadiq with a smile. He was often amused by the whims of his bosses and indulged them with a kindly smile and good nature.

I gave up trying to convince Sadiq that the 'Big Boss' really wanted to see and talk to him. I was glad he agreed to come. It was still a few days until the weekend and I wanted to make sure he would be available. The 'Big Boss' had wanted to know as he did not want to inconvenience Sadiq or interfere with his weekend plans or time off from official work. He was a typical westerner, unaccustomed to the blurring of business and personal time in India and the fact that official business took precedence over private life most of the time.

Now that I had Sadiq's availability and willingness confirmed for the dinner, I promptly conveyed it to the assistant to 'Big Boss'. In about an hour's time, I received a call from Sadiq. He was a bit overwhelmed and yet confused that the 'Big Boss' had called him directly and invited him formally for the dinner on saturday. He was used to being 'invited' indirectly by many 'top officials'. He just thought it was mightly decent, thoughtful and kind of this man to directly ring him and talk to him. He appreciated being remembered and his service being appreciated by supposedly the boss of all the bosses in the company! I was impressed at the humility and human caring that 'Big Boss' exhibited in interacting with deserving people.

"Bade Saab ('Big Boss') called me and invited me again. I told him you had already let me know and that I agreed. I was surprised why such a man should worry about small details, then it occurred to me that he really wants to offer me a treat and nice dinner. This kind of gesture is some of the best things in life. Something one must cherish if it comes along. You all must have said good things about me. Thank you, Saab! You are all good people," said Sadiq with sincere gratitude and grace.

It struck me that he was still a thoughtful, street smart and wise man in addition to being very good at his job. The thought crossed my mind that with the right education, the right degree or certificate from an accredited institution or the right contacts, Sadiq would have gone further up in a career than many I regularly interacted with. I wondered, what Sadiq's educational qualifications actually were. I made a mental note to find out.

On saturday afternoon, I drove to Sadiq's house in my car. He welcomed me with traditional courtesy, friendliness and offered me 'Chai-Naashtha' (Tea and snacks). I said I would have only tea - he would have been offended if I had not accepted something, but declined anything more.

"We have a great dinner to do justice to!" I said smiling.

"Haan Saab (Yes, Sir). I understand," nodded Sadiq grinning widely.

He was apparently getting ready and pressing his clothes to wear to the dinner. He had decided to wear his traditional "Perahan tunban". The ironing board was in the adjoining room and I could smell a waft of steam and heat coming in from there. I saw Sadiq had put the iron on the side with his clothes half-way done. He went to the kitchen to make tea and brought it out with thick traditional style biscuits. I looked around the room and house. Sadiq kept a neat and well organised house. He was apparently house-proud!

"Sadiq, please continue with getting ready. I am sorry to disturb you. I thought I would come a bit early so that we can leave at leisure," I said, tucking into the sweet, delicious biscuits with nuts and dried fruit bits embedded in them, dipping them into the thick sweet, flavoured milk-tea.

"No problem, Sir! I will be ready soon. You want to listen to music or watch TV?" Sadiq was ever the hospitable host.

"Sure, put on some music that you like and go on with pressing your clothes," I said.

He put on some lovely, soulful yet joyous music and went over to the next room. I looked around and saw the simple, yet elegantly decorated living room. On one desk at the corner, there were pictures of children and family groups, presumably Sadiq's relatives. They were taken apparently in Afghanistan. There were many with a background of orchards and fields, some near a large house that appeared to be in the countryside, with some hills in the distance. There were faded pictures of some old folk in black-and-white. The colour pictures too had faded somewhat and the colours were no longer true or original as printed.

I suddenly saw a glimpse of the personal life of this man I had known and worked with for long, but had never spent much time with. I did not know him well enough. He on the other hand, had been at my house and spent much time with my family and friends. He often asked me about them. They too knew him. I realised that Sadiq knew more about all my colleagues and their families than what anyone of us knew about him. We had never expressed much curiosity even though we had always treated him with kindness and respect that he evoked in almost everyone.

I realised that the 'Big Boss' probably had shown more interest in Sadiq as a person and his life (albeit in a subtle manner) in the short time he had known him, than we had in all these 30 years of Sadiq working for us. We had managers and employees come and go, each for varying spells, very few around as long as Sadiq. Each had a good relationship and interaction with Sadiq but no one had really studied or looked at that man himself with the focus and attention that 'Big Boss' had now shown. Sadiq was completely unaware of this.

He soon came into the room, all dressed up in freshly pressed clothes and a hint of Ittar (traditional perfume). He had shaved, looked smart and traditional.

He smiled shyly and asked,"Kaise lag raha hoon, Saab? (How do I look, Sir)? Okay?"

"You look fine, Sadiq! Very nice Dost (my friend)!" I said looking at him with new eyes.

We soon set out to the dinner with the 'Big Boss'.

It was with an oddly uncomfortable expression that Sadiq sat next to me in the passenger seat as I drove. He was very quiet and looked outside and around, as he entrusted me with the driving.

"You drive very well, Sir," he said. I knew he meant it sincerely.

"Thank you! Are you now able to see things differently, when in the passenger seat?" I asked him.

"Yes, Sir! It is strange, but when I drive I do not notice many things that I see now. I only have time to focus on the road, traffic and signals. Now I can pay attention to other things. Even these roads and places that I know for all these years seem a bit different and unfamiliar to me sitting in this seat, just one seat away from the driver's side," Sadiq said with a quiet serious tone. The man was obviously very observant and intelligent. He was quite articulate, expressed himself well and to the point in very few words.

"Where exactly is the dinner, Sir? There are many restaurants in Taj Palace," asked Sadiq.

"We were asked to meet at the reception and will be told there. You know, with 'Big Boss', his security is very important and strict. They will not give out too much information in advance and keep many things secret until the last moment. Also, be prepared for change of plans or cancellations. They try very hard, but sometimes these things happen," I said.

"Haan Saab!  I know.  Bade Saab Ke liye Bade security( Big security for Big People)! Bechaare (Poor man!) He has to go through so much inconvenience after having earned all that wealth. I wish people let them live a normal life. There are always a few troublemakers who make life hard for others and good, successful people," Sadiq observed.

'Sir, should we not take some gift to give to 'Big Boss' to show our appreciation for his gesture and this dinner? I don't know what to give these people. I see TV shows about these Firangi (foreigners). Kya dhen inhe? Phool ya Mithai? ( What shall we give them? Flowers or sweets?).' asked Sadiq.

"Don't worry, Sadiq. It is taken care of. The company already has organized gifts and flowers for the 'Big Boss' today. You know our Senior Admin - Indrajee? She has arranged it," I said.

"That is good, Sir. Indrajee is very good and knows all these things. I suppose you folks always know what to do and do these things often,"concurred Sadiq. He continued shyly patting his coat pocket,"However, I am not used to such occasions, so I have brought my own little thofaa (gift) for the 'Big Boss'. But I am not sure if we should take flowers or what flowers if at all."

"Hmm.. that is thoughtful of you, Sadiq! I am sure he will appreciate it," I said, frankly surprised and impressed at the thoughtfulness and culture of this man who has sat next to me for all these years. I realised I knew so little about him.

Suddenly, it occurred to me to stop and pick up some fresh local flowers (hand woven jasmine garlands were in season) to give 'Big Boss' and he could possibly give them to his girlfriend who was also expected to be at the dinner. These were a typical, traditional cultural gift that most south Indian men took home to their wives on their way back from work every evening. It was getting to be a fading tradition. The 'Big Boss' was apparently very keen and knowledgeable about traditions in various cultures and was reportedly wooing his beloved with many such gestures.

I asked Sadiq, where one could find a jasmine flower vendor in this area and he expertly guided me. We went to a street vendor, who worked with his wife and daughter.  I stopped the car and Sadiq got out immediately, walked over and bought a long strand with the most fragrant flowers packaged in leaves that kept the flowers from being crushed or touched until they were ready to be worn. He apparently knew this vendor too. They exchanged brief and friendly greetings, expressed surprise at Sadiq's dress and outing for the night.

A haggardly looking beggar came up to Sadiq and saluted him. He too exchanged greetings with Sadiq who seemed to know everyone. Sadiq dropped a note into his hands. The man broke out in a wide toothless smile and went away conveying blessings to Sadiq, who got into my car.

We arrived at the reception of the big famous hotel. As I got down and handed my car keys to the valet, Sadiq got out and greeted the valet and the doorman. They were acquaintances apparently. They too greeted him with a wink and some compliments on his attire.

Sadiq stood still at the door holding the wrapped flowers. I joined him and we were courteously welcomed in by the greeter and doorman. We headed out to the reception and saw a few of our colleagues too, waiting in one area. We joined them and everyone exclaimed with surprise upon seeing Sadiq. Some did not recognise him in his traditional dress. He greeted them all with his usual friendliness and cheer. Everyone else there was senior management and they all had a hunch that something significant might happen for Sadiq, but were not too sure. If anyone knew, they were not talking. It was a possibility that the 'Big Boss' had just taken a personal liking to Sadiq and this was a one-off thing, to show him some appreciation for his excellent services.  All through the past week there had even been some speculation about what he might get. Some in management were ready and prepared to 'recommend' some specific rewards, if the 'Big Boss' were to solicit suggestions. A big, fat bonus and a photo-op for Sadiq's personal records were suggested by my boss. I had decided to stay away from any such discussion unless specifically asked for my opinion or suggestions by either my boss (one of the vice-presidents in the company) or the 'Big Boss' himself.

After a few more colleagues arrived, we had a tall, well-built, smartly groomed individual in a suit come over to us and introduced himself to our Senior Vice-President.

"Good evening Mr. C and Gentlemen, I am L, from the 'Big Boss's security team. There has been a slight change of plans. The dinner will be at Hotel X__ a short distance from here. There will be a couple of shuttle vans that will take you all there. If anyone has not yet arrived, we will pick them up and take them there after they arrive."

"I know where that Hotel X_ is. It is really close by. There is no need for a shuttle, we can walk over," said Sadiq looking towards me. Many looked at him with surprise and puzzlement.

"No, Sir! Sorry, but we would prefer if you did not walk over there. We will take you in the shuttle," said Mr. L, of the security detail, very firmly and politely.

"It is for security reasons, Sadiq, that it is preferable that we all go by shuttle," I explained. He understood quickly.

Soon, we were all taken in two groups in two shuttle vans over to Hotel X_. It had a surprisingly a low-key exterior and profile when viewed from the outside. It was near the corner of a side-street that was well-lit and had a lot of poor people and even some homeless and beggars camped there. It was out of direct sight from the entrance of the hotel, but Sadiq knew the area well. He apparently had friends there too.

"Sir, There is a reason why so many of the homeless and hungry camp near Hotel X_. It has a policy of giving away very, very good food at the end of each day. They are actually left overs or food not sold during the day. Many rich people order a lot more food than they or their party can consume. They give away the best food to the poorest. They have a rule that poor people should stay away and out of sight from the hotel. No one is to come and bother the guests or beg on the street in front of them. Food is actually delivered to the people from the hotel so that they do not have to come near it. No one knows much about who eats there or comes there. There are even rumours of a secret entrances and exits leading to it from other buildings so that one need not even park near it but far away on some streets. I know some of the people who eat the food donated from here often," Sadiq confided in me with a strange expression on his face. His tone too changed.

"Hmm... interesting," I said, observing Sadiq keenly.

"Sir, shall I tell you something?" said Sadiq. He was asking for my permission to say something, but I could tell he was perhaps bursting to do so.

"Sure, Sadiq. Tell me. You know something about the place?" I asked gently.

"Sir, when I first came to Mumbai, it took me a while to find a job and earn enough to support myself. I have myself eaten the food from this hotel on some days, until I could get up on my feet. I knew a lot of people there. A few still remain. One of my close friends is still there. Today, I see how far I have come in life," Sadiq said with a subdued, quiet almost whisper. He had a far away, distant look in his eye.

I was stunned to learn this about Sadiq. I was a self-made man in life too, but had never been that badly off. I also was intrigued about Sadiq and why he seemed to live alone and not with his family. I had, from my exposure to western values and culture, refrained from asking personal questions or information about people I worked with, as much as possible.

We were all ushered into Hotel X_.  The interior was surprisingly roomy, plush but with an understated elegance. It was as if we were stepping into a different world. It was said no one could actually walk into the hotel unless it was by invitation or it was organised beforehand through someone. There was an air of mystery and something unknown about the place. There were many well-groomed and smartly dressed waiters, concierges about the place. The service was prompt, efficient and considered among the best one could find anywhere.

We all were lead to what appeared to be a waiting lounge leading to a smallish restaurant that we had to ourselves for our company dinner. There was a beautiful decorated arch at the door through which we all had to pass as we entered the restaurant. It was the best looking metal detector and scanner I had ever seen. It was apparently installed by the 'Security Team'. The doors to the restaurant opened as we neared it and we were surprised to see the 'Big Boss' and his partner standing at the door, welcoming us, greeting each one of us, shaking our hands and exchanging a few words before being led to our seats by smartly dressed ushers. We all lined up in a queue to enter slowly in order and to give the 'Big Boss' a chance to greet everyone properly.

"As-salamu alaykum , Sadiq! Welcome Mere Dost (my friend)!  We are honoured and happy that you could come tonight!" said the 'Big Boss'.

"Wa-Alaikum salaam!," said Sadiq extending his hands for a handshake. The 'Big Boss' shook it, clasping it with both hands, before pulling him towards himself and gave him a typical hug in the Asian fashion. His partner bowed towards them with folded hands. Sadiq returned the bow. He then gave the packet of flowers that he carried in the other hand to the 'Big Boss'. .

"What is this?" asked 'Big Boss'.

"Fresh jasmine flowers," said Sadiq.

"So you brought him flowers, what did you get for me?" joked the 'Big Boss' girl.

In the Indian tradition, the guests or friends did not give the flowers directly to the lady, but to the man, who would give it to his woman. Typically, he would put them on her hair or around her neck.

"Oh no, Madam. The flowers are for you. I got something for the both of you also," said Sadiq a bit flustered. He took out a small packet from his coat pocket and handed it to her. It was neatly wrapped in plain paper. She quickly unwrapped it and there was a small wooden carving.

"The wood is from my home in Afghanistan. I carved it," said Sadiq.

"Why, thank you very much Sadiq! That is really lovely of you. The flowers are great! They smell wonderful," both the 'Big Boss' and his girl were pleased. The lady took the packet and they both sniffed it. However, they were puzzled at how to put on the flowers that came in a wrap of leaves.

"How do we get to and put on the flowers?" the 'Big Boss' girlfriend asked with a smile.

"Sir, you get it out of the packet and you should put in on the lady's hair," said Sadiq shyly.

"Can you help me?" asked 'Big Boss'.

Sadiq opened the leaf wrapping and tilted the packet so that the string of flowers, woven together with thread tumbled out like a yard long, thick rope. The bright white blooms were fresh and they exuded a burst of fragrance around them.

"Now, how do I put these on?" the lady asked.

"No, not you, Madam. Sir is supposed to put it in your hair. Sir, you should put it through the hair at the back, above the knot," said Sadiq handing the flowers to the 'Big Boss' and pointing to his partner's pony tail tied up with a ribbon and a knot.

Clumsily, 'Big Boss' stuck the flowers in his partner's hair. She instinctively reached and brought the two ends of the long strand in front of her, wearing it like a scarf or fur stole.

"Hmm... It smells wonderful," she said tossing her head, totally charmed by the grace of Sadiq.

"That is good, Madam. Sir, thank you for inviting me to dinner. I will enjoy it very much," said Sadiq, simply.

"Thank you very much for being here today, Sadiq," said the 'Big Boss' looking at him with a softness in his glance that I had never seen before.

Sadiq moved on as he was ushered to a seat, but waited for me.

"Namaste! Welcome! Thank you for coming tonight. It is our pleasure and honour to host this dinner for you. Thanks for bringing in Sadiq! How is your family? How is your son doing?" said 'Big Boss' and his partner with folded hands to me.

"Namaste and Good Evening! It is nice to be here. My family is doing well. Thank you. My son is fine. He is at the boarding school and playing sports and into computer games." I replied.

The 'Big Boss' and his partner then shook hands with me and passed me on to the usher. I joined Sadiq and we headed to a table to be seated together. We looked around the restaurant.

There were seats set up in a large room with a spectacular view towards the ocean across the road. There were elegant fixtures and the clear glass wall that wrapped around the whole restaurant gave it an illusion of being open to the air outside. There were doors too that seemed hidden until one saw someone actually go through them. There was a short strip of garden outside leading up to the street. The traffic was busy and seemed like two rivers of light flowing in opposite directions, one white and yellow and the other red.

As we sat at our tables, appetizers and drinks were served. There were many different varieties with very inviting smells and appearance. We all eased into it. Sadiq looked a bit puzzled. He wondered if this was the dinner and why many ate from the same bowl in the middle of the table, while they kept an empty plate with silverware in front of them. It seemed interesting to him that people here ate a bit like folk back home in Afghanistan when they all ate as a large family.

I observed his lost expression and gently whispered to him, "This is not the main dinner Sadiq. These are just like a Naashtha (snack), like an introduction before the story. We will have some speeches and discussion before the real thing - the big feast.

There was subdued conversation as the hosts welcomed everyone and sat them down. Then they too went to table near the glass windows and sat down. There was subdued music playing in the background. It took a while to realize there was a DJ and actually a band playing live music. They were in one end of the hall and cleverly adjusted the volume and choice of music to suit the various stages of the company meeting and dinner.

Suddenly, there was a call for attention by the 'Big Boss' striking a glass with his fork. Everyone fell silent and turned towards him.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, friends and colleagues, I and my partner are very happy and grateful to each of you for your presence here tonight. We are honoured to be your hosts. Welcome to this evening's program. We will have a few brief announcements, then a little bit of music and dance and then dinner. We will have more music and dance afterwards. Please feel free to stay up late, as late as you want, late enough to be early tomorrow morning if you wish. I and my partner will have to leave around midnight though. We have a busy few days ahead of us. We will be traveling and need our sleep. Before we retire for the night, we would like to spend a little one-on-one time with a few of you to discuss specific issues. We will come by and get you," the 'Big Boss' was warm, friendly, crisp and covered all the important points.

Then there were the expected announcements, recognitions and awards for various contributions. One of them, for the 'best driver' in the company, was given to Sadiq. It was an unusual one, given for the first time. It raised both loud laughter and loud applause. Sadiq was a bit taken aback. He did not know what to make of it - whether people were just having a bit of fun at his expense or if someone suddenly considered his line of work to be very important to the company. He took it all in good humour, even if shyly.

After the official announcements and awards were done, there was a slight break with drinks and music. The 'Big Boss' and his partner worked the room, flitting from one table or group to another, chatting and making everyone feel noticed and important. They seemed to be avoiding my table where I sat with Sadiq. I felt a bit sorry for him. He seemed quiet and perhaps disappointed that his invitation to dinner with the 'Big Boss' was not something he might have expected. But he seemed to understand and sat quietly, sipping his fruit juice and trying the fancy appetizers.

It was almost time for the main dinner to start as it was announced to commence in five minutes. The 'Big Boss' had still not come up to our table. As everyone headed to their respective tables, for dinner to commence, the 'Big Boss' came up to ours. He took Sadiq by the hand and summoned me to follow him. He led us to his table and bade us to sit down in two vacant chairs. We truly felt honoured and special. The 'Big Boss' has deliberately waited until the last moment to invite us to join him and a couple of others at his table. Obviously it was a special gesture and I had a feeling that there was something important coming up. At any rate, I was happy for Sadiq. He would no longer feel neglected and invited simply for someone to feel better about themselves. He could see that the 'Big Boss' had a real fondness for him.

"Now, Sadiq, I wanted to speak to you about something official, quickly before dinner is served. I am considering expanding our business here in Mumbai. I want to double or triple our business in the next two years and even more after that. I think it makes sense to have our own fleet of vehicles and drivers since it is very important to provide, reliable, quality service in transporting our people and products. I would like you to head that newly created division - transport support for the whole company, reporting to Sameer Saab, a vice president. I think you would be the best person for that job. Would you like to take it on?" the 'Big Boss' was brief, to the point and had covered all the bases in making his case. Sameer nodded and looked encouragingly at Sadiq. He was obviously in the know and had been prepared.

Sadiq was not expecting anything like this. However, he was intelligent and quick thinking. He understood the issues of transportation around Mumbai like no other person in the company. He delivered excellent service himself, got along well with almost everyone and was certainly someone who could inspire others to follow his approach. I was impressed with the way the 'Big Boss' had worked it out in his short interaction with Sadiq and his knowledge of the company and business. I could imagine this would be a huge leap ahead for Sadiq in terms of his career. I knew what division heads were paid like, it would be an order of magnitude greater than what Sadiq was being paid now. I was also very happy for him. If anyone deserved a boost to his fortunes, it was Sadiq. If he stuck to the job, Sadiq would retire a fairly wealthy man.

I looked at the man in question. He did not seem too excited. He was calm and contemplating something, most likely the logistics of his responsibilities and if he could do justice to it in delivering a quality performance. He thought about it for what seemed a long time and then said quietly,"Yes, Sir. I will give it a try. If you are not satisfied with my work after a few months, I will understand if you want to give it to someone else. I will be happy to have my old job back."

I and others at the table were a bit surprised at the less than enthusiastic response from Sadiq. The 'Big Boss' seemed just fine. He smiled understandingly and nodded.

"That will be fine Sadiq! I am happy you will give it a try. Thank you for accepting the job!" the 'Big Boss' shook Sadiq's hand. He then struck his glass with a fork calling for attention. Everyone fell silent and turned towards us.

"Cheers to the new head of our own transport division, Sadiq!" and he raised his glass in honour of Sadiq. All of us followed. There was a roar of approval and applause from around the room.

Sadiq was now more relaxed and started to smile and beam. He was sitting next to me. He turned and thanked me and others.

"I am sure Yeh Saab (pointing to me), and you others all must have put in a good word about me.Bahut Shukriya (many thanks)!"

Dinner began. As the music being played became more subdued and instrumental, soup was brought in and served. Sadiq sneaked a personal thank you to me during soup being served. Since I knew it would never be in his nature to ask, I decided to tell him a ballpark figure of how much his new salary might be. His eyes widened and he looked shocked. It passed. He looked a bit dazed though. Perhaps he thought I was exaggerating and pulling his leg.

I noticed that the 'Big Boss'  very subtly set the tone for the discussion at the table. The official stuff was all over. It was all personal and general talk now. It was as if we were chatting with an old friend and catching up. He teased, listened, cajoled, poked fun and had some personal and interesting exchange with each. It was easy to be comfortable and Sadiq too became involved, sharing his thoughts and opinions just like anyone else. He and the 'Big Boss' were very similar in that aspect. They were at ease with themselves and others as they were. The rest of us were more artificially comfortable, always with the thought that our bosses or subordinates at work were listening to our personal views and perhaps judging us.

The soup was finished and the bowls taken away. Sadiq had been quiet for a little while and I turned to look at him. He looked a bit uncomfortable and subdued. He did not say anything. For the first time that evening, I saw him not looking happy or cheerful. The 'Big Boss' too quickly picked up on it.

He looked around the table and observed Sadiq looking out the window with a silent expression. He and we all followed Sadiq's line of sight and saw that across the other side of the river of traffic, under a pier that jutted out into the sea, in the harsh bright street lights, sat an old scrawny man, with white spiky, unkempt hair all over his face. He held a stick, apparently to support himself. There were a few other shadowy figures moving about around him. Sadiq seemed to be looking at him quite intently.

The conversation turned to something about transportation around Mumbai.

"Sadiq! What do you think?" the 'Big Boss' asked.

"Sadiq!" I nudged him.

"Oh! Sorry, Sir. What did you ask? I am sorry, I was not paying full attention. I am sorry Sir," Sadiq seemed a bit flustered and apologised.

"Oh, that's alright. Notice anything interesting?" asked the 'Big Boss'.

"I was just looking outside, Sir."

"Anything interesting?" asked the 'Big Boss'.

As Sadiq started to say,"That old man across the street..." he was interrupted by the waiters bringing in the dinner to be served. The dishes were on silver and gold trays and dishes, being kept warm on shiny brass, silver and copper trolleys, each covered on top with a dome with golden handles. All the individual trays and containers were set on the table in front of us first. After they were all in place, the domes covering them were taken off with a flourish, all at the same time. It was a spectacular sight. Each meal had been beautifully arranged and decorated. The side dishes were all in beautiful individual serving dishes that screamed 'elegance' and luxury in an understated way. The whole thing was a work of art. The appetizing looks and aroma set us all drooling. "Oohs and Aaahs' emanated from all around.

I looked at Sadiq next to me. He eyed the whole grand table and he suddenly had an appearance of all the wind being knocked out of him. He had the most miserable expression one could imagine. He seemed to reel and rock a little. I imagined it was just that he was awed and impressed.

"Let's begin! Dig in!" said the 'Big Boss'. I noticed Sadiq pick up his fork and weakly attempt to dig into a dish. He just gave up, turned around with an ashen face, said,"Excuse me everyone, very sorry.. " and he trailed off. He got up, seemed to sway a little, stumbled out of the nearest door to the little garden outside.

Most of the people in the room were merrily starting out on their feast. It was quite noisy with chatter. Only the eyes in our table followed Sadiq. He walked over to the edge of the garden and slumped on a bench, facing the sea. He had his face in his hands.

As I recovered from my own shock, I felt I had to do something since I had brought along Sadiq tonight. I could not fathom what would lead a person like Sadiq to react like this and probably ruin all the opportunity and fortune fate seemed to be throwing at his feet. I glanced at the 'Big Boss'. He had a puzzled frown and he suddenly caught me looking at him.

"I will go and take a look Sir, perhaps he was overwhelmed and feeling faint," I said. I jumped up and scrambled after Sadiq. I found him shivering, in an effort to control himself and check his mysterious emotions.

"What happened, Sadiq? Are you not well?" I stood in front of him.

"I am extremely sorry, Sir. Please convey my apology to the 'Big Boss' also. I just cannot go in there and eat today, Sir. I am sorry if I made you look bad," Sadiq was just making a huge effort to focus on his immediate surroundings.

"I don't know what is going on with you Sadiq. Tell me! What can I tell the others at the table?" I asked going into a sort of shock, myself. I had been yanked abruptly from my comfort zone thrust into something I was not good at dealing with.

"Did you need some fresh air? Can you not see that the air inside is fresher than the air here, outside, with all this traffic and pollution?" I was lost.

"That is OK, Sadiq. Are you feeling ill Mere Dost?" the 'Big Boss' was suddenly at my side. He went and sat next to Sadiq and put his arms around his shoulder.

"Forgive me, Sir. No I am not ill. I am sorry to be like this and cause a disturbance in your dinner. I cannot eat in there. Maybe, if you send some food over here. I will sit here and eat it." said Sadiq.

Now, I was shocked. I knew that it is alright to act humble and lowly etc, but there was nothing that I could see or sense that happened with Sadiq that night, for him to take offence or act like this. Perhaps I misread his maturity. I was starting to feel a bit less sympathetic towards him.

"Did someone do or say anything to insult you or hurt your feelings in there, Sadiq? I could not see or hear anything? What's the matter" I could sense my own tone hardening a bit.

"No, no! Sir! Nobody did or said anything to hurt me. They were all very nice. It is not them, Sir, it is me. It is within me. It is my kismat (fate), Sir. I am ashamed to behave like this. Please forgive me and tell them all at the table, that I am very sorry, Sir." Sadiq sounded utterly defeated by life.

The 'Big Boss' gave me a thoughtful look for a second. He again turned towards Sadiq. He squeezed his shoulder and said in a very gentle, soothing voice that surprised me.

"Tell me Sadiq, did something that happened inside upset you?" The voice and tone of the 'Big Boss' was that of a trusted friend.

"Yes, Sir. I could not bear it." said Sadiq simply.

"I can see that it must have been hard for you. I understand that there must be a reason. Don't worry about us or the other's at the table. It is perfectly OK with me if you don't want to eat inside. We will all understand and support you. We just don't know what made you feel so miserable. Would you please share it with us? We would like to know about it. Perhaps we can help." There was something in the voice and manner of the 'Big Boss' that made me see him not as a billionaire or my boss' boss, but as a very genuine human being, who was at this moment Sadiq's good friend.

Sadiq too looked at him, in the eye and then slowly said.

"Sir, it was when all the food was revealed and I saw how magnificent it looked. I could not eat it. The image of my children and family came in front of my eyes. It was too much, Sir."

"Oh! That MUST have been hard for you, Sadiq. Now I understand. Where are your children and family now?" asked the 'Big Boss'.

"In Afghanistan, Sir,” replied Sadiq.

"I remember you told me they were in Afghanistan, Dost, but where exactly, where in Afghanistan?"

"I really don't know exactly where they are, Sir. They must be in my hometown, but might have moved if there is too much fighting. It has been a couple of weeks since I heard about their last whereabouts," Sadiq said simply.

"How many children do you have, Sadiq? What about their mother?" asked the 'Big Boss' gently.

"I have three children, Sir. Two boys and a girl. Their mother is no more. She died a few years ago. My brother and his wife are raising them. My old parents were with them too," said Sadiq quietly.

"Oh. So you hear from them and know that they are OK?" the 'Big Boss' gently prodded.

"I always pray and hope they are all alive. I hear from them or about them occasionally when I am able to make contact with them directly or through others. I don't know if they are all alive and OK at this moment," said Sadiq plaintively.

"I am really sad to learn that Mere Dost, Is there anything we can do to help?" asked the 'Big Boss'.

"Thank you for your words and thoughts Dost  but I am afraid nobody can do anything about it. I cannot, even God cannot, it appears. I could not bear to eat that lovely feast knowing what my family might be eating tonight, if they were still alive. I just could not. I am sorry for creating a scene."

"Sadiq, that is perfectly understandable. I guess it is fine for you to eat outside here. Can I and my partner join you?"

I stood there, having learned a great lesson in life.

"Sadiq, I too would like to join you here, if you are OK with it," I said quietly.

Sadiq seemed to have recovered a lot of composure. He nodded.

The 'Big Boss' suddenly signalled and out of the darkness a couple of people appeared.

"Ask them to bring our dinner out here from our table," he said.

"Yes, Sir," they nodded and went about arranging it.

While they were setting up a table and bringing the food outside for us, the 'Big Boss' suddenly asked Sadiq.

"Sadiq, in there, you were saying something about the old man across the street, under the pier. What about him?" asked the 'Big Boss'.

"I know him, Sir. He is my friend Jaffer, from my early days in this Mumbai. We lived together for a while. He has a son who is mute and has only one hand. He sits with him mostly. We used to eat together many times," said Sadiq quite calmly and confidently.

I suddenly understood something.

"Did seeing him trigger thoughts of your family as well, Sadiq?" I asked gently.

"Yes, Sir. I was just wondering if he had eaten, when I saw him," said Sadiq.

"Invite him over Sadiq," the 'Big Boss' suggested.

"Sir, he is not well dressed for the occasion. I can take him some food. He also gets good food from this hotel afterwards," said Sadiq.

"That is all fine, but I am sure he will be pleased to see you too. Let's invite him and his son to join us tonight," said the 'Big Boss'. He signalled to one of his local bodyguards (who seemed to be lurking in the shadows) to go over and invite the old man and his son. They came across the street and were let in through the gate into the garden. Jaffer greeted Sadiq with much surprise and the son gestured salutations too with a smile.

Within a remarkably short time, there was a table set with chairs around and food was being served in the garden for our small group - The 'Big Boss', his partner, I, Sadiq, Sadiq's friend Jaffer and his son. The ''Big Boss' partner did not bat an eyelid or miss a beat. The couple were cool, composed and seemed to take everything in their stride with great mutual understanding. There was no fuss or drama with them.

As we ate, the sight that remained most powerfully burned into my memory of that remarkable night was one of Jaffer feeding his son mouthfuls, while Sadiq looked at them both with obvious and painfully intense envy mixed with an indescribable happiness, even as he sat next to the 'Big Boss'.

***********************************************************

It certainly answered the question on everyone's mind. M and P raised their glass towards me. I had made my point.

Copyright  (c) Kannan Narayanamurthy 2016
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