The students had sat with her for a long time after that. This was Anima's first meeting with them outside the classroom. They talked of many things. After that they had continued to drop in at her place once in a while. They spoke to her of their doubts, ideas, hopes, ambitions, loves. At some point they decided it wasn’t right to drop in casually and take up ma’am's time. They would meet one Saturday a month instead and spend the evening together. Gradually Anima stopped being their teacher and became a friend. One of them would make tea or coffee and order snacks. They lounged around, thought, leafed through her books. She grew to treasure those Saturdays with its discussions, debates, quarrels and impromptu readings. Sometimes life's big questions came up for debate and everybody grew solemn.

Anima had expected the pleasure to end with time. Her young friends would leave for universities and jobs in other places. But by a happy chance, they had all gone to college and found jobs in the city and the monthly Saturday meetings had continued. The students were of an age that Anima's children would have been had she and Siddharth been able to have them. The thought coloured the evenings.

Anima stuffs the book of Amitav Ghosh's essays into her handbag with the foolish hope that she might be able to read it on the train. But there's a stampede. The number of people commuting to and from Surgaon and beyond has been increasing by the day. From early afternoon, the return trains start flooding with human bodies, bringing with them the assorted smells of sweat and favourite perfumes. These days the paunchy and the lean, the stunted and the tall exude seductive Brut. As if this were not enough, the man next to Anima has plastered his hair with Loma. She is surprised. Loma, which turns grey hair into muddy brown, is still in the market as an instant dye. Never mind. Even Loma would be easier to tolerate if the man wearing it would sit properly. But he's the spreading type. As soon as he is seated, his legs begin to part and his hand begins to play hide-and-seek with her right thigh. Anima knows there's no escape from wandering hands till a woman has lost every hair on her head and every tooth in her mouth.