LADIES' TAILOR by Priya Hajela

Author:Priya Hajela [Hajela, Priya]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins India
Published: 2022-06-17T00:00:00+00:00

18

NOOR SAT IN GURDEV’S SHACK, LISTENING TO THE hullabaloo around her. Suddenly, from customer, she had become one of them and she was pleased. It brought her close to Gurdev. But as she looked around his home, she wondered. He had referred to it as a shack and she had thought he was being modest. But this place was actually a shack, one large room that included everything. There were no private spaces except the bathroom, which was outside. Fortunately, Gurdev had now connected it to the sewage pipe on the street and had proper plumbing. She had heard that initially the toilet for the family was a hole in the ground over which they poured mud after going. This man was a little too rustic, a little too rough but she sensed that there was someone else hidden beneath that rough, worn-out Pathan suit. It was a sense, though. She had no proof and now, as she looked around his home, she saw nothing that could tell her any more about the man.

After Anandi left to live with her new husband, Gurdev had hired another woman to cook, clean and take care of his home. He was particular, she noticed. Surely it wasn’t Anandi who had known how to make the bed so neatly. Gurdev must have taught her. The bed was large, much bigger than a normal double bed. It was a simple bed without any frills but it looked solid. Under the bed lay three metal trunks, each inscribed with the owner’s name. These, she assumed, were the family’s wardrobes that his wife had left behind. Separate from the three trunks that looked shiny and new, there was another trunk, an old trunk, which looked like it was made of a denser metal and had some weight to it. It had a big lock on it, the others didn’t. It had been painted black over the original silver but the black paint had worn off and Gurdev Singh, S/O Pritam Singh showed through. Atop each trunk were a few books, schoolbooks for the boys but contemporary fiction on top of Gurdev’s trunk, English books, bought from English bookshops. A couple of Thomas Hardys, several P.G. Wodehouse and E.M. Forster’s A Passage to India, plus a few more whose titles she couldn’t make out. She could see under the bed because she sat on a low stool, the dining chairs and other perches were all taken. Gurdev most certainly did not intend for his books to be seen by his most frequent visitors – his business partners. Although, Noor thought, a little condescendingly, that they wouldn’t know what the books were. But Noor was intrigued, more than intrigued, she was flummoxed and curious, desperately curious.

She got back to the conversation when she heard her name and nodded for something; it was important, it seemed, so she nudged Jagat and asked him what she had missed.

‘Oh, you are organizing Anandi and Dr Bhargava’s wedding and getting the cards printed. Pay attention.

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