‘Is that a joke?’ I ask.

‘Never mind. How’s that husband of yours?’ she asks.

The question reminds me of the morning fight I’ve had with Sid—short for Siddhartha—my husband of nearly nine months.

‘We had a fight this morning—rather, we are still fighting since it wasn’t resolved,’ I say.

‘Wow. So the honeymoon’s finally over, eh?’

‘Don’t say that, Rags! We don’t always fight—’

‘That’s because he’s hardly been around. When he’s around, you fight,’ she declares.

‘It’s not … That’s not how … We only fight when we discuss his mother,’ I say somewhat despondently.

‘Hmm, that mother of his. The more you tell me about her the more it sounds as if she’s been taking tips from Lalita Pawar movies. What was the one where LP tried to kill her daughters-in-law with boiled-lizard-milk? Don’t drink any milk your MIL gives you, okay?’ Ragini says.

‘Sau Din Saas Ke,’ I reply. ‘It totally put me off lizards.’

Ragini rolls her eyes. ‘Don’t be bloody stupid, Polly. Only you can take Bollywood seriously. You know lizards are not poisonous, right? Just Google it.’

‘Of course, I know lizards are not poisonous, but I didn’t know it as a kid and that’s when I saw the movie Ms Google-Everything,’ I say with a laugh.

‘Don’t try to be fucking smart, Polly, it doesn’t suit you. Instead of making fun of me, maybe you should try using search engines a bit oftener, you won’t be saying stupid shit all the time then,’ Ragini says. She gets off the stairs with a huff, stubs her cigarette and walks towards the Bin door.

That’s another thing with Ragini, you never know when she will get pissed off at something.

‘Rags, hang on! I’m sorry, I wasn’t making fun of you,’ I call out to her.

‘Are you sure you weren’t trying to mock me?’ she asks, facing me again.

‘Yes I am—I’m sorry,’ I say.

That seems to mollify Ragini and she comes back and sits down again.

‘Anyway, I saw Comma having a go at you again,’ she says. ‘Doesn’t that woman ever get tired? Don’t you ever get tired of her giving you shit?’

Ragini frequently gets irritated with me for taking ‘shit’ from Comma. I try to explain the situation for the umpteenth time.

‘I am not taking … You know I’m on probation for six months. I don’t want to upset the apple cart. If I just wait this period out, I’ll get ample chances to write without a confrontation with Comma,’ I reply.

‘Sometimes confrontations are needed,’ she says.

‘Sometimes patience is better,’ I respond.

‘Is that your strategy with Sid too?’ Ragini asks.

‘Huh? What does that mean?’ I ask, confused at the change of subject.