The compassion

 

Mahalingam was not exactly henpecked though he did not do things which his wife Gowri disapproved of. One of the things she disliked was having his aged mother with them, as he was her only son.

“Maha, it is very chill these days during nights and I keep shivering. Can you get me a woollen blanket?” his mother asked him one morning

He was reading a newspaper and his wife was cutting vegetables by his side. He made a small non-committal grunt ’hmm’ to signify he heard her but said nothing more.

Three days past she again reminded him. ” Maha, I am unable to sleep. Bangalore is colder this year than in the past. I cover myself with my old saris too but they give no relief.”

A lump passed through his throat. He knew his wife was listening to the request and her silent look spoke enough. All he could say was only,” Amma, let me see. I am busy with a lot of work in the office. Close the windows in the night. The chill air would not enter.”

The old woman kept quiet and thereafter stopped asking him.

Two weeks later Mahalingam’s brother-in-law, Dandapani who had come on a short visit asked his sister “Gowri, what are these two big bundles in the hall for?”

She said with pride “Your brother-in-law is very particular that we distribute saris and dhoties each year at the old age home during winter. We have been doing these for several years. We will be going there this evening. Why don’t you accompany us?”

Her brother replied” I am very proud of you, sister, for your compassion”

In the background, the old woman lay huddled on the mat with an old sari doing the duty of a blanket and coughing nonstop.

As Dandapani was leaving the next evening, he went near the old lady bowed before her and said as he handed over a bundle,” Mami, I am Dandapani taking leave of you. Here is a token of my affection and respect for you. This woolen blanket will make your nights very comfortable.”

Mahalingam was seen with his head bent downward and Gowri cringing in shame.

 

The tough choice

                     

Kunal was content with his accommodation in Chandigarh. The house owners, Sethi and his wife Basanti, were warm and caring. He had chosen to stay with them as a paying guest for six months. Though they had never taken in a paying guest before, they agreed at the request of a mutual friend. Their hesitation was understandable; Kunal, at 27, was highly educated, handsome, and successful. Yet, one might wonder why these admirable traits could pose a problem—until it became known that the couple had three beautiful daughters, all 22, and triplets at that.

The daughters were not only beautiful but also talented, excelling in both academics and sports. Sethi’s worry wasn’t that one of his daughters might fall for Kunal; rather, he feared all three might. And, considering their identical looks, Kunal might struggle to choose between them. While Sethi wrestled with his concerns, Basanti remained neutral. However, the decision was clinched when all three daughters pleaded in unison for their parents to allow Kunal to stay.

But if you thought the matter was resolved, you’d be mistaken. It was only the beginning of a dilemma. All three daughters developed an instant liking for Kunal, each eager to outdo the other in serving him—be it bringing breakfast, pressing his clothes, or cleaning his room. The once-close sisters soon found themselves competing for his attention, leading to constant friction over who would do what.

Kunal, ever the diplomat, remained friendly with all three, each girl believing she held his heart. He relished the attention but faced a greater challenge: choosing one from the identical trio, each uniquely appealing. He felt that though they look similar, their personalities can differ with different tastes and values. He wished to explore a little further before deciding on one who was compatible with him to cultivate more.

The next morning, Ankita arrived early with tea and the newspaper. "Good morning. Let’s cut to the chase,” Kunal said. “What is it about me that makes you like me so much? Be honest."

Caught off guard, Ankita hesitated but then grinned. "I’m a huge fan of Aamir Khan. You resemble him, and I’ve always adored his looks. I see you as the closest thing to him, and that’s enough for me."

Kunal laughed. "Aamir Khan, huh? That’s a high compliment. Thanks for being so open."

They spent the next few minutes discussing his latest show, Satyameva Jayate, before parting ways.

Later that morning, Amruta brought him breakfast, looking radiant in a Patiala suit. "Wow, you look amazing. Going somewhere special?" Kunal asked.

"Nope, just dressed up for you. How do I look?"

"Stunning, as always. So tell me, what draws you to me?"

Laughing, she replied, "Honestly? One day I caught a glimpse of you after your shower—towel, six-pack, the whole deal. You looked like Tiger Shroff, and from that moment, I knew you were mine. You just radiate strength and confidence.”

Kunal chuckled. "Well, thank you. I see you’re not shy either."

After some more light conversation, he excused himself to run errands.

He returned late for lunch, where Anjana was waiting with his meal. "You’re late! You must be starving," she teased.

"Thanks for waiting. Let me ask you something—do you like me?"

She looked down, shy but smiling. “Isn’t it obvious?”

"Yes, but I’d like to know why."

"Because you’re kind. You haven’t taken advantage of our fondness for you, and you treat everyone—no matter their status—with respect and compassion. That’s rare, and it’s what I admire most in you. Looks fade, but kindness doesn’t."

Kunal smiled warmly and extended his hand. “You’ve won me over. I couldn’t decide before, but now I know. Please keep it to yourself for the present.?”

Anjana smiled but said nothing when Basanti’s voice rang from downstairs. "Has Kunal finished his lunch? Where are you, Anjana?"

They both smiled before she ran away.

Later that evening, Kunal received a call from Mr. Sethi. "Kunal, why don’t you join us for dinner at 7:30? We’d love to chat."

At the dinner table, Sethi sat at the head, with Basanti and Anjana on one side, Ankita and Amruta on the other. The atmosphere was light, filled with soft laughter.

“Kunal,” Sethi began with a grin, “I heard you were chatting with all my daughters today. Don’t be fooled by them. They’re sharp and mischievous. But we’re here tonight to share some news.”

Kunal looked over at Anjana, a smile tugging at his lips.

Sethi continued, “Brace yourself, Kunal. All three girls are leaving for the U.S. next month for their postgraduate studies. Berkeley offered all of them financial aid, but only Anjana accepted. Ankita is heading to Georgia Tech and Amruta to Harvard. While they may have a liking for you, their immediate focus is on their education and careers. They didn’t want to spoil your romantic mood and played along with your questions. But who knows what’s in a woman’s heart?”

Kunal’s smile faded as the news sank in. The girls, laughing, rushed to hug him as Sethi stood up to pat Kunal.

“Who knows what fate has in store, Kunal? Maybe one day, you’ll be my son-in-law after all!”

The Deep Scar (690 words)

Guna, a school dropout, had fallen into bad company and turned to petty theft to fund his drinking and other vices. While he hadn’t yet graduated to serious crimes like housebreaking, he was content picking pockets in crowded markets, stealing boxes at railway stations, and occasionally snatching gold chains on desolate roads at dusk. To make his getaways easier, he rode a stolen scooter. Guna was no stranger to spending short stints in jail, only to return to his old ways as soon as he was released.

His name figured prominently in police records as a suspect, and he was frequently ‘interrogated’ whenever there was a theft involving important people. The deep scar on his neck, the result of a brawl among rival criminal gangs, made him easy to identify.

Guna came from a decent family, but all efforts by his parents and siblings to reform him had failed. After years of futile attempts, they gave up in despair, distancing themselves from his self-destructive path.

As fate would have it, Guna’s next victim was a family member of an influential politician. The politician’s wife and daughter, laden with heavy purchases, were loading their bags into the trunk of their car. As they stepped away to collect more packages from the portico, the bags they had already placed in the trunk mysteriously vanished. In their haste, they had neglected the basic precaution of having one person stand guard. The lapse cost them dearly.

The police swung into action, desperate to catch the culprit. They knew the usual suspects operating in various localities, many of whom they were on familiar terms with. Constable Manickam was assigned to track down Guna, who had gone into hiding. Despite relentless efforts over three days, Manickam was unable to find any leads on Guna’s whereabouts. The pressure was mounting to recover the stolen goods, and the constable knew he had to find Guna at any cost.

Acting on a tip, Manickam headed to a village on the outskirts of the city. It was around 4 p.m. when he arrived, only to be greeted by a scene of chaos. A massive fire had broken out, engulfing a cluster of thatched huts. Gusty winds fed the flames, which spread rapidly from one hut to another, giving the residents little time to salvage their belongings.

Panic-stricken villagers ran in all directions, clutching whatever valuables they could grab. Some carried young children, while others supported elderly parents or hauled boxes, beds, and cooking utensils. The air was thick with black smoke, and the sounds of terrified screams and wails filled the atmosphere.

Manickam's attention was drawn to a young woman who was screaming hysterically that her baby was trapped inside a burning hut. The flames had already consumed most of the structure, and no one dared to enter. Just then, a young man darted towards the burning hut and leapt through the flames into the opening that served as a doorway. Moments later, he emerged, his clothes on fire, cradling a small bundle wrapped in cloth.

He handed the baby to the frantic mother before collapsing to the ground, screaming in agony. Villagers rushed forward, pouring sand and water over him to extinguish the flames. Although badly burned, it appeared he might survive.

Manickam pushed through the crowd to get a closer look at the heroic young man. His heart skipped a beat as he recognized the darkened face and the distinctive deep scar on the young man’s neck. It was Guna.

The crowd around them erupted in praise for Guna’s bravery, marvelling at how he had risked his own life to save a child. The mother’s tears of terror transformed into tears of joy as she clutched her baby to her chest.

Manickam wiped his misty eyes, his heart heavy with conflicting emotions. After a moment, he turned away, deciding to pretend he hadn’t seen the scar. Without a word, he trudged back to his vehicle, leaving the village behind.

 

The Perils of Easy Money (686 words)

There was a nip in the air as the waning moon shone dimly over the empty highway. After dropping off a load at Hosur, Kapali was heading back to Chennai in his mini-truck. Given to booze, he was always in need of money and looked for easy ways to augment it. He liked the easy money obtained without much effort. After a hearty meal at Krishnagiri, he hummed a tune while lighting a cigarette.  The road stretched ahead like a ribbon of darkness, and the night felt peaceful.

After an hour of driving, Kapali spotted two men waving frantically at him by the side of the road. Beside them lay a bulky bundle. His mind flashed to the thought of easy money—maybe they needed a lift and would pay handsomely. He pulled over with a screech.

“This is our relative,” one of the men said. “He fell from a terrace and died on the spot. We need to send his body to Gudiyatham. His family will be waiting on the highway to collect it. We’ll pay you 500 rupees for the trouble of carrying.”

Kapali felt a shiver down his spine. He didn't like the idea of transporting a dead body, but the lure of easy cash tempted him. Sensing their desperation, he decided to squeeze out some more money.

“I don't carry dead bodies. Company rules are strict. But for 1000 rupees, I’ll do it,” he said.

After some negotiation, the men reluctantly agreed but refused to travel with him, claiming they had urgent work to attend to. Kapali, eyeing the bundle suspiciously, insisted that one of them accompany the bundle. When they pleaded inability, he raised his price to 2500 rupees, which they paid before loading the body into the truck. He was happy to be richer with 2500 rupees in his pocket.

As he was nearing Gudiyatham, Kapali started feeling uneasy. He pulled over to relieve himself, but as he returned to the truck, a slight movement of the bundle caught his eye from the rear mirror. His heart skipped a beat. Was the bundle moving? He froze, staring through the rear-view mirror, his pulse quickening as he saw the bundle shaking violently.

Fighting his fear, Kapali jumped out and opened the cloth covering. Inside, tied and bloodied, was a man—alive, but barely.

Kapali’s hands trembled as he untied the man. “They told me you were dead!” Kapali exclaimed. The man gasped for air. Kapali poured some water into his mouth.

“They tried to kill me... I went to collect the money they owed me. They beat me with iron rods,” the injured man whispered. “Please, take me to the nearest hospital. I’m from Bangalore.”

Kapali didn’t waste a second. He rushed the man first to the nearest police station when the man was alive, to escape any harassment later and narrated the entire incident to the inspector, luckily present there. The inspector insisted on speaking to the injured man to verify the story. Kapali hurried outside to the truck followed by the inspector, but when he touched the man’s shoulder, he felt the chilling stillness of death.

Panic flooded Kapali as the inspector checked the man's pulse. “He’s dead,” the inspector said coldly, eyeing suspiciously and maliciously at Kapali with his blood-smeared hand and shirt. 

“I swear, I’m innocent! He was alive just moments ago and spoke to me! Please believe me, I beg of you” Kapali implored even as he nudged again in vain the dead body, but his words fell on deaf ears.

The inspector smirked. “Let’s see how innocent you are after this.” He reached into Kapali’s pocket, pulled out the bundle of 2500 rupees and said.” Huh, innocent, is it?” 

With the dead body now lying silent, the only witness gone and the unexplained money seized, Kapali’s fate looked sealed.

As he was dragged inside the police station, he saw a glimmer of light from a lantern far away on the road. When Kapali resisted being pulled for a better look, he was given a big blow and pushed inside even as the distant light disappeared.

A Divine Matchmaker (1778 words)

                                                       (I hope you like this story though a bit long)

As soon as the clock struck four in the evening, Kamala Paati would become restless and get ready in her nine-yard sari to visit the Sri Parthasarathi temple close to her house. She must be over seventy years old, tall and frail. Her head neatly combed and her forehead shining with a streak of red line, she carried herself with dignity. As she lived just behind the temple, she easily entered it from the rear gate.

She would sit at the same corner spot daily in the mandapam outside Perumal’s (god’s) sanctum and recite Sri Vishnu Sahasranamam (Thousand Names of Vishnu). She never missed a day in this routine. Sometimes, while gazing at Perumal, she would mutter something softly, and on occasions, she would gently pat her cheek with her fingers in a gesture of regret. She rarely spoke to anyone.

 If the sanctum was less crowded, she would step inside for a quick darshan of Perumal and take the theertham (holy water). Since she visited daily, she was well acquainted with the priests, particularly Singham Iyengar (hereafter referred to as Iyengar), who was not the chief priest but was always present in the evenings. He was around sixty-five years old and showed respect and kindness for the elderly Kamala.

One day, he gently asked her, “Do not think I’m prying into your matters, but I notice you pray devoutly to Perumal every day. It feels like you’re seeking something from him, yet it seems He hasn’t answered. If there’s any way I can help, don’t hesitate to tell me.”

Kamala replied, “Why would I hesitate to tell you? I’ve been through a lot in life. Money isn’t an issue. I had only one daughter. After carefully looking for a good match, we married her off to someone we thought was from a respectable family. Later, we found out he was a rogue, a cheat, and addicted to all kinds of vices. He never spoke the truth and was a cruel person.

My daughter, on the other hand, was calm, virtuous, and very strong. She was not the type to argue or raise her voice, which angered him even more. In fits of blind rage, he would beat her and torment her. While she was eight months pregnant, he kicked her in the waist in anger just because she said she didn’t have the money he demanded. The injury was severe, and though she gave birth to a baby girl, she passed away within a week.

“We took custody of our granddaughter and raised her. My son-in-law even tried to demand money in exchange for the child, but with the help of my relative, who was in the police force, we scared him off. There has been no contact with him since then.

“My granddaughter has grown into a beautiful maiden, just like her mother, both in looks and temperament. She’s highly educated and has a very good job. She’ll turn twenty-six this Vaikasi (Tamil month). My last wish is to see her married to a good-hearted, well-educated and loving person before I leave this world in peace. But nothing seems to materialise despite my best efforts. That’s why I come here every day to pray.”

“What’s her star and gotra? What did she study, and where is she working? Maybe I’ll come across some good match,”  Iyengar said.

“I don’t know all the details. She’s doing research on finding cures for diseases like cancer, and she earns a high salary,” Kamala replied.

“Ah, what an extraordinary and capable girl! How is her health and personality?” he asked.

“She’s healthy, tall and good-looking.  I need a little help from you. Will you do for me?” Kamala pleaded. She added, “I’ve been praying with all my heart for years, but Perumal hasn’t opened his eyes to my prayers. Maybe He has some reason, but I don’t know what.”

“Perumal knows when things must happen. Don’t worry; He will surely listen when the right time arrives,”  Iyengar said, trying to console her.

Kamala, with a determined voice, said, “You stand in front of Perumal every day and serve him. His name is always on your lips, and you’re always gazing at his divine form. If you whisper my request in His ear just once, I’m certain He will grant it. Will you do this for me?”

 Iyengar chuckled, saying, “I don’t work here for money. My children keep telling me, ‘Father, stop working at the temple and just stay at home. But I can’t bear to be away from Perumal even for a day. Whether or not He knows how much I love Him, I can’t tell.”

“Please don’t brush this off. When you’re alone, tell Him that the old woman’s granddaughter must be married to a good man soon. I’m sure He’ll listen to you. After all, you have a unique bond with Him because of your devotion and proximity. You’ll be blessed for helping me,” Kamala pleaded.

 Iyengar was torn between feeling amused and pitying her deep faith in his ability to sway Perumal. Despite his hesitation, he finally said, “Don’t worry, I’ll certainly convey your request to Him. He’ll surely fulfil your wish for your faith even if not for my sake.”

That night, Iyengar couldn’t sleep. The thought of requesting something from Perumal on someone’s behalf seemed presumptuous. "Who am I to ask Perumal to fulfil such a request?" he thought. The old woman’s plight, however, tugged at his heart.

The next morning, in the absence of the head priest,  Iyengar performed the puja with greater devotion than usual. Afterwards, when the temple was quiet, he stood before Perumal’s idol. In a voice filled with emotion, he said, “My Lord, I’m not asking this for myself. You know everything about this old woman, who has been praying here earnestly for two years. Her suffering is not unknown to you. With her belief that I have some special closeness to you, she has asked me to make this request on her behalf. Your mercy is boundless, and you’ve rushed to help before, at the slightest request of your devotees like Draupadi when she was disrobed or Gajendra in deep trouble from a crocodile. Won’t you turn your kind gaze toward this poor old woman too?”

There was no response from Perumal. Iyengar felt as if Perumal was laughing at him. Feeling deeply ashamed, he prostrated on the floor, asking for forgiveness. When he stood up, a flower fell from Perumal’s hand. He was filled with an overwhelming sense of joy at this omen. He thought to himself, “I should tell the old lady about this gesture. She will be thrilled.” But that evening, Kamala didn’t come to the temple.

That night, Iyengar had a strange dream. Suddenly the room was filled with the fragrance of sandalwood and the sound of bells. Perumal himself appeared before him with a mischievous smile. “What’s this, Iyengar? You’re funnily searching for ghee having the butter in your hands and yet expecting me to solve as I did for Gajendra? Isn’t this a small thing for you to remedy yourself?”

 Iyengar, prostrating before Perumal in the dream, cried in excitement, “My God, my small mind is unable to comprehend what you are hinting at.”

“Take your time and think carefully. Everything will work out fine,” Perumal smilingly said, even as He disappeared.

The next evening, Kamala came to the temple. “I didn’t see you yesterday. Is everything alright?” she asked  Iyengar.

“Yes, everything is fine. I put your request to Perumal yesterday, and a match was found immediately. I was waiting for you to tell you the details.”

“I knew it would happen! I was certain that Perumal would heed to you. What a blessing! Who is the groom, and what does he do?”

“He’s twenty-nine years old, well-educated, working in a foreign bank in Bengaluru, earning around four lakhs per month, and comes from a good family. Here’s his photo, with all the details on the back. Show it to your granddaughter. If she likes him, let me know. I’ll arrange for them to meet,”  Iyengar said.

“Once burnt, twice shy, it is said. The boy and his family must be good people. Money is not important; character is. Please check this point thoroughly,” Kamala stressed.

“Don’t worry,. First, see if your granddaughter likes him,”  Iyengar reassured her.

The next day, Kamala and her granddaughter Veda arrived at  Iyengar’s house. Kamala was surprised to see how well-kept and beautiful the house was, with granite floors, plush sofas, a large TV, and an air conditioner. It did not look like the tenement of a poor priest.

 Iyengar’s wife greeted them warmly and, sitting next to Veda, said, “She’s much more beautiful than I expected! I hope she likes the boy.”

Kamala asked, “Yes. Have you had a chance to inquire about the boy’s family?”

“Yes, they’re from this area only,”  Iyengar’s wife said.

“You are not telling whether they are good people and that you are fully assured on this point,” Kamala persisted.

"Alright, please tell me one thing first —what do you think of me?" Iyengar asked with an impish smile.

"You are a very virtuous man, always steeped in thoughts of God. You are a great devotee of Perumal and very helpful to everyone. What more can I say? But why are you asking me about this when I’m asking about the boy’s family?"

Iyengar burst into laughter, leaving both Kamala and Veda confused, as they looked at his wife for an explanation.

It was then Iyengar spoke, " Initially, I had no thought about this young man. When I prayed to Perumal about your request, a flower fell from His hand. I took it as a good omen. That night, in a dream, He appeared and said, 'You are asking for ghee having butter in your hand, and still expecting me to find a match for the young woman.”

 It was only after He disappeared, it struck me what He meant. If Perumal has willed it that way, then let it happen beautifully, I decided. That’s when I gave you the boy’s details and photo, but even then, I didn’t tell you who he was till I knew your mind."

Seeing Kamala still confused, Iyengar's wife added with a broad smile, "This groom, Krishnan, is none other than our son! We showed him Veda’s photo, and he was very pleased. He’s been asking when he can come over to meet her. Now, it is for you both to take it forward."

Both grandmother and Veda joined them in the happy laughter that ensued.

G mami's secret (715 words)

Ambujam mami knew almost everyone in the sprawling apartment complex She had the knack of befriending everyone with her pleasant conversation. Always well-dressed, she was a picture of grace wearing a smile on her face. She lived with her husband, who worked long hours, and their daughter, Sumitra, who also had an office job.

Alone and idle during the afternoons, Mami wandered the complex, gathering information by chatting with neighbours in the lobbies, play areas, or pathways. Twice daily, she took walks where she’d meet most of the residents. Nothing happened in the complex without her knowing—new tenants, pregnancies, children's schools, family disputes—she was aware of it all. This knack earned her the nickname "Gmami," with the "G" representing both her block and her gossiping nature. It wasn’t her fault, she believed, that she knew everything and occasionally shared it with others. Still, many residents tried to avoid her.

These days she had been noticing for the last few months every weekend, when she went out to visit relatives, a young man visiting the complex on his motorbike. Clad in jeans and colourful shirts, he looked muscular and quite handsome. What intrigued Gmami was that Renuka of E block rushed out every time that young man came in a motorbike and was seen talking to him in a corner of the community hall.

Renuka and Sumitra were close friends, having grown up together in the complex. Mami, however, was careful not to mention this to her daughter, fearing her disapproval of her snooping. But Mami couldn’t hold the secret and confided in a few other ladies. They confirmed her suspicion: Renuka was secretly meeting the young man, without her parents’ knowledge. Mami considered telling Renuka’s mother but decided against it, as the woman had never been particularly warm toward her.

Whenever Gmami was leaving the complex, Sumitra would invariably excuse herself from accompanying her pleading she had some work or needed rest. One Saturday when Gmami was leaving, she saw Renuka in animated conversation with that young man pointing at her and giggling with him. She could take no more of these nasty goings on and decided to tell her mom about their secret meetings.

The next Monday she took her close friend from the opposite apartment with her and went to Renuka’s house. Luckily Renuka was not at home. Her mom welcomed them warmly and said “What a pleasant surprise your visit is. I know you as Sumitra’s mom but we have never mingled much.”

After the initial pleasantries, Gmami said, “In fact, I wished to come earlier but was somewhat hesitant. I was not sure how you would react to the information that I wished to convey to you.”

“Why would I react? You can tell me freely without hesitation. I am eager to hear you,” the lady said.

“Please don’t take me amiss. Renuka is like my own daughter, Sumitra. But I thought you should know that Renuka has been meeting a young man near the community hall every weekend. They seem very close, and I wasn’t sure if you were aware.”

“Frankly I am not aware. Let me check with Renuka. We are a liberal family and would not object to her choosing her boyfriend and eventually even her partner. Since she hasn’t mentioned it, let me find out,” the lady said calmly.

It was then Renuka entered the house unexpectedly. Gmami was taken aback and started to get up. The lady restrained her asking her, “Please be seated. Let us ask Renuka in your presence. We will know the facts”

After hearing the situation, Renuka turned to Gmami and said, “Mami, brace yourself. That young man? He’s not meeting me; he’s meeting Sumitra. They’ve been dating for over a year. Every weekend, he checks with me to see if you’ve left so he can visit her. He spends an hour or two with her. We came to know very recently he had lied about his qualifications and his lowly job. Sumitra didn’t tell you because she knew you’d disapprove.”

Gmami sat in stunned silence. Sumitra? Her daughter? The woman who knew everyone’s secrets had missed the most important one in her own home. For once, she had no gossip to share—only unpleasant news to suffer in silence.

 

Doubly Lucky (1188 words)

 

Vinod had his account with the bank on the ground floor of his office building. It was manned entirely by ladies except for the security. He preferred frequent visits to the bank and rarely used an ATM or the credit card facility. The reason was not far to seek. It was the attraction of the charming lady teller who drew him like a treacle to an ant.

 She was around 27, quite efficient and business-like. Though she smiled, her answers to Vinod’s questions were professional and to the point. This did not deter him from trying to cultivate her. Unsolicited, he informed her that he worked in the same building and was an engineer in a good position. Sometimes he would talk about the weather and the overcast sky. She would just count the money and hand it over with a smile. But the pleasure of seeing her once daily was an adequate reward for the visit.

Vinod had gone with his mother to a book fair on a Sunday. It was a huge fair drawing a heavy crowd and on this day it was unmanageable. The weather was oppressive in the mid-summer. With poor ventilation and narrow corridors, it was smelly and hot. His mom bought some religious books while he went for cheap editions of old classics. It was nearing 8 pm and they had covered more than half the fair. Suddenly, they heard cries of ‘Fire, fire’ from one side and soon there was a mad scramble from the visitors for the exit gate even though smoke was coming from one corner. Soon the fire spread and engulfed larger areas.

 The unruly rush became a stampede near the exit and it was by luck that Vinod found an opening on the side to take his mother out. Someone had cut the power and the whole place was plunged into darkness. He could hear the bells of the fire engines rushing towards the different sides of the fair. In a short while the fire engines were dousing the fire and the shopkeepers' keepers were busy in salvaging the books. Most of the visitors had left except for idle and curious onlookers. There was utter confusion, smoke and shock

By the time he located his car in the darkness, it was 9 pm. As he got into the vehicle, his mother shrieked from the other side and said” Vinod, come here, I find a young girl lying on the ground near the door. “ She was about five years old and fast asleep. Separated from her guardians, she had strayed in the darkness to this place and fell into slumber.

“Mom, I will leave the child with some policeman. You be here. I will come soon” Vinod said

“No, it is a girl child and it is night time. It is not desirable to leave her with some policeman. The girl looks from a well-to-do family. Let us take her home and leave a message with our area police station that we have brought the child home and give our address and phone number. The missing parents would eventually find their way to us” she said.

The next day morning the little girl started crying when she woke up to the new surroundings. Vinod’s mom had gone to a temple. The child could only reveal her name as Purnima but could not tell precisely the location of her house though she gave the name of her play school. Vinod decided to take the girl to the school when the phone rang. It was from the police station informing that the girl’s mother was coming to Vinod’s house along with a policeman. The girl was tidied up, and given milk and some toys to play with. Vinod was playing with her to keep her in good humour and the little girl took to him instantly.

The bell rang and the girl rushed to open the door. Can you guess who was there with the policeman? You did it right. None else than the teller at the bank in the building where Vinod worked. For a moment both were rendered speechless. It was broken when the girl rushed to the arms of the lady telling her, “ Mommy, uncle is so sweet but did not know how to play even in simple games.”

Both broke into laughter. “I am Vinod. Please come in. Mom should be here anytime from the temple. How did you miss her last evening at the book fair? Lucky that we could find your daughter sleeping last night near our car. Or should I say doubly lucky?” Vinod said smiling.

Meanwhile, his mother came and the policeman was thanked profusely and sent away with some money.

“I have no words to express adequately my gratitude. I am Archana. You did a very wise thing bringing her here and keeping her safe. I see you daily at the bank,” she said with a smile

“Mommy, can we take uncle with us to our home? I like him so much” the girl intervened

“Don’t worry Purnima, I intend to drop you both at your place and meet your daddy,” Vinod said

Her mom’s face fell. She said” My husband was killed at the Kashmir border three years ago. I am living alone with my daughter.”

“Oh, oh. I am extremely sorry,” he replied even as his mother put her arms around Archana and led her to the sofa even as Purnima snuggled in his arms.

When driving them home, he asked with a broad grin on his face,” Should I explain why I said doubly lucky if you have not guessed it already?”

She looked at him and made faces before breaking into a smile. A love was born.

As Vinod pulled up at Archana’s home, the quiet of the morning settled around them. Little Purnima had dozed off in the back seat, still clutching the toy Vinod had given her.

Archana looked at Vinod, her expression was soft yet uncertain. "I can’t thank you enough," she began, her voice halting for a moment, "for everything. If it weren’t for you, I—"

"Please," Vinod interrupted gently, "you don’t need to thank me. I think I’m the one who got lucky here." He flashed her a warm smile, but this time, it wasn’t the casual flirtation he usually showed at the bank. It was much deeper and sincere, and Archana could sense it.

For a moment, their eyes locked. The tension, the brief awkwardness, dissolved. "Lucky, huh?" she teased lightly, trying to break the moment.

Vinod chuckled softly. "Doubly lucky. I found your daughter safe… and I got to finally talk to you and know you."

Archana’s lips twitched into a smile with her eyes sparkling "Well," she replied, "I guess we're both lucky."

Vinod turned to face her and said, “I think this might just be the start of something even luckier.”

With a promise in the air of happier days ahead, they looked at each other for long with a knowing smile before he followed Archana into the house carrying Purnima in his sinewy arms.