Padosan – Part 1: The Dupatta on the Balcony

The wind came off the Gomti in the late afternoon and rattled every window in the old building in Hazratganj. Kavita was hanging washing on the balcony when a gust snatched her yellow dupatta from the line and sent it sailing across the narrow gap to the next balcony.

"Arre!" she cried, leaning out. It landed neatly over a potted tulsi plant.

The balcony next door belonged to Rahul, a schoolteacher with ink on his fingers and a habit of reading aloud to himself when he thought nobody was listening. He stepped out, looked down at the tulsi, then up at her, and his face went bright with surprise.

"Yeh aapka hai?" he asked.

"Haan," said Kavita, a little flustered. "Kya aap please laa sakte hain?"

He picked it up, folded it carefully and held it out across the gap. For a moment, neither of them moved.

"Kavita, is it?" he asked. "The lady who sings to her plants?"

"I do not sing to my plants."

"You sing to the tulsi every evening at six. I can hear you from my kitchen."

She went pink, and then laughed, and he smiled, slow and surprised.

"I'm Rahul," he said. "I teach history at the school near the Clock Tower. I'm told I'm very boring."

"Who told you that?"

"My mother. Every Sunday."

"Then your mother is right," said Kavita, but she was still smiling. "I'm Kavita. I work at the bank. And I'm very tired of this wind."

"It's the Gomti," said Rahul. "It's very dramatic."

"Like you?"

He laughed out loud. "Like me, probably."

She reached out, a little awkwardly, across the gap. He stretched forward too, and their fingers touched on the yellow silk. Neither of them let go immediately.

"Can I ask you something?" said Rahul, his voice lower.

"Yes."

"Would you like to come to the chai stall at the corner tomorrow evening? Not to return a dupatta. Just to say hello properly, without the wind."

Kavita's heart gave a small, unexpected flutter. "Yes," she said. "But only if you bring the sugar. The stall man is stingy."

"Deal," said Rahul. "And I'll try not to be boring."

"Green?" she asked, teasing, with a glance at the swinging dupatta between them.

"Green," said Rahul, and didn't let go of the silk until she laughed and tugged it free.