| gharmigirl |
Posted
on 12-Jun-03 07:58 AM
for Lekhak,
for his encouragement and nice words, start of a story. no title, no ending. maybe to be continued. maybe not.
Above store, in dank office, Gopal leaned into scarred, old desk and pored over expense receipts, the days cash register take, a pile of bank drafts, and the mail. A pile of cash, divided into stacks of various denominations, sat in the middle of desk. The late afternoon sun filtered through window, refracting off the large jar of colorful beads on windowsill. A burst of hues-- blues, reds, oranges and yellowsfrom the bead jar colored the room as if the window were stained glass and bathed Gopals head in rainbow of light.
He stamped the back of each draft and recorded their numbers and amounts onto a bank deposit slip. The higher the number, the happier he felt. Just as he moved the cash piles closer to him, the office door swung open. Ritu peeked around the door. She stared at the piles of cash.
Ever hear of knocking? Gopal asked.
Forgot. Someone in the store wants to see you, she said, still looking at the cash.
Who?
Dont know. He looks official.
Tell him Im not here.
Already told him you were.
Get rid of him. Gopal didnt like the way Ritu eyed his cash.
He dont look like he wanna go.
Get rid of him, Gopal said without looking up. The door closed.
Starting with the stack of rps 100, Gopal counted the bills. His daily cash pile had grown since he launched his little helping hand project, small under-the-table business venture where customers hands washed his hands leaving some cash behind. He imagined the silver car he expected to buy this year with the extra cash. He pictured the little, secret apartment he kept, another benefit, one that he couldnt live without since Sajani had become his special girl. All the donations to temple and civic groups. Yep, yep, such a perfect plan, he thought. Every body won. The store needed cash with its spotty cash flow problems. JuJu never had enough cash to sustain her fantasy that she was equal to queen. Sajani, his real queen, never asked him for thing. And him. The extra cash enabled him to spread the joy. Oh what joy!
He wanted to buy Sajani so many things, particularly a diamond ring, and the extra cash meant his nosy wife wouldnt find out. JuJu sniffed money like a bloodhound after a scent. She wanted to keep up appearances of living higher life than the one he provided. Gopal picked up a rps 500 and inhaled its aroma. Nothing matched the smell of money. He loved it. He loved the fact his little store was a cash operation. And now with the small helping-hand-plan, things rose to new levels so long as no government officials started sticking their noses around in his business to foul things up.
The phone rang.
''Lo, he said into the receiver. JuJus voice on the other end grated his nerves. What you want? He had never loved her, his parents choice of wife.
Was thinking about you. Wanted to say hello.
Hello, he said flatly. He fingered the pile of bills. Ok, now what you want?
Im taking daughters shopping for new clothes. Im coming to pick up some money.
No, youre not. His daughters, only 3 and 5, not even above six years, had owned too much clothes, enough to open boutique. Last thing they needed was more new clothes. Gopal thought they ought to share clothes, but Juju dressed them like living dolls.
I need cash, JuJu said.
What happened to the money I already gave you? Gopal said. Irritation scorched his throat.
It got spent, his wife complained.
On what?
I got to run a household on the pittance you give. It got spent
He heard knocking on the office door, followed by a scuffle. I got to go, he said and hung up the phone. The door opened slightly, and he saw the back of Geetas dyed head, talking to someone outside the door.
I told you, hed be down to see you, she said.
The door swung wider, and a chubby hand moved her to the side. A fat man, wearing a red plaid jacket and a clashing marroon toupi pushed Geeta out of the way. Instinctively, Gopal pulled a catalogue that lay opened on the desk toward him and covered the cash with it.
Mr. Gopal Shrestha? the fat man said.
Who wants to know? And what are you doing bursting into my office?
Its important I talk to you. Now.
You cant wait five minutes? I told Geeta to tell you Id be down in five.
Well, I dont have five, and I want to talk to you privately, the fat man said.
This is as private as it gets, Gopal said.
Privately, if you dont mind. The fat man cast a glance toward Geeta.
Gopal nodded. Bahini.. Looking stricken, Geeta shuffled from one foot to another then left the room.
The fat man extended his hand and shook Gopals. Kumar Rana. Namaste.
Now whats this all about? Gopal asked. The mans heft annoyed him.
Is that Geeta sister your employee?
Who wants to know? Looking at the fat man, Gopal realized Rana looked familiar. Gopal knew the man, but couldnt place how.
How long she worked for you?
Did I say she worked for me?
Ever have any trouble with her? Rana sat in the sole chair opposite the desk. He didnt wait to be invited to sit, he just did. Picturing the huge indentation Ranas ass made in the chair, Gopal felt annoyed. A wash of red light from the bead jar cast a shadow over Ranas fat head. It made him look like a sausage with chubby lips and three chins.
Trouble?
Rana leaned his large body back in the chair and folded his hands, thick fingers above his protruding stomach, and forced a smile.
Gopals mouth formed straight line across his face. This fat man Rana spelled trouble.
|
| Lekhak |
Posted
on 15-Jun-03 02:10 PM
Gharmigirl
Had to scan through the postings to find this one. How could I miss it, afterall?
I have to tell you that your writings are impressive. Didn't I tell you, you have that zing thing? I think the flow is similar to that found in novels (hindi?). Who knows, one day Gharmigirl would be a well known novelist.
I like the narration and the control you take over the readers. YOu want criticism? Well, it felt a little like reading a Nepali/Hindi translation. YOu have a good vocabulary and if you 'contain' the flow, you can be far more impressive. I'd suggest to go over, more of the english works, in the likes of George Eliot or even Allan Poe.
You have really helped me straighten out lots of things. I consider it is my responsibility to bring up the facts, than just praise them. I wish you would do the same in future. I hope to read more from you and am sure lots of Sajhabasis are waiting for a star to rise. Novelist, Gharmigirl? There is so much that we can learn from you. Please keep up the good work.
|
