Diary I just cannot express the feeling going through me right now. I just cannot. This is like when Ben Johnson won the 100 metres at the Olympics. Massive lead, massive feeling of achievement. Gold medal. It was a life and death moment for Dufresne.

But somehow, against all odds, Einstein has delivered. Yet again.

Breathe. Breathe. Still feeling so high.

When I was leaving for home today I ran into that housekeeping fellow in the lobby. I told him that I was quite upset with what happened earlier today. I told him, in very strong words, that it was entirely inappropriate to just barge into the men’s room without warning. Henceforth, I told him, if he wanted to interact with me in any way in the men’s room he had to discuss it with me first. And after that he didn’t need to discuss it with anybody, least of all that Polish woman.

He looked stunned. I walked away.

I have walked away a lot today. It has been that kind of day.

Okay Sugandh is here. I can hear the mumbling.

Later.

Phew. Gasp. Phew.

9.54 p.m.

Talk about anti-climaxing.

Sugandh just took all that good feeling that was inside me and then killed it with multiple stab wounds to the neck and chest area.

First of all he comes in and says that he wants to check my laptop to see if there are any issues with the network settings. Then he politely asked me if, in order to not inconvenience me, he should take the laptop to his office and bring it back later.

I should have just said yes. It would have got that irritating fucker out of my room. And I would have got the evening to myself to do whatever I wished.

But then, as usual, I was overcome by professionalism. God only knows what all confidential client information is there on my laptop. In the wrong hands the laptop could mean disaster.

(Of course Sugandh is an idiot. I don’t think he would understand even 10% of the data on my computer. When he started using my computer I asked him if he knew anything about spreadsheets. He thought for two minutes and told me, ‘I don’t know. May be you should ask housekeeping.’ Idiot.)

So I told him that it was impossible to take the laptop from my presence and he had to do everything sitting in my room. He looked very happy indeed.

For fifteen or twenty minutes we didn’t speak to each other. I switched on the TV and watched a cooking programme for sometime. Sugandh worked quietly.

And he started asking me questions. And some more questions. After that he asked me fucking question after question after fucking question.

When did you come to London?

How did you come to London?

Do you enjoy your job?

Do you get good salary?

How long will you stay in London?