‘Arre baba, look how it is raining. The taste of the tea will be enhanced by the bhajiya,’ she said and went towards the kitchen. She got herself a cup of tea. They were sitting next to the window, sipping the chai and enjoying the fries. The change of weather and the drop in temperature actually made the snack taste even better. She told him all about her village in Sholapur. Every summer vacation she went home, where her four sisters and two brothers lived. Her father had passed away and her old mother lived with her eldest brother. He listened to her attentively. He had known her since seventh grade and thoroughly enjoyed her teaching, but it was his first encounter with her personal life. He started asking her questions. These questions opened up some old pages of her past. A little later, when the evening azan was faintly heard, she covered her head with a corner of her sari and said with a smile on her face, ‘Jitna sunaw kam hai baba [The stories are never-ending].’

Asrar smiled too.

The intensity of the strong winds and the heavy downpour could be seen through the falling trees and the huge raindrops. Suddenly, a loud thud was heard. Asrar peered out of the window. It sounded like something had fallen down. Jamila also stood up. ‘Arre baap re baap, the mango tree right next to the jamun has fallen,’ Asrar said in a worried tone. ‘Ya mere Allah!’ she uttered in reflex. She looked down from the window and remarked, ‘Barish bhi kaisi ho rahi hai, kya tufan bifan aata kya [What kind of rain is it? Do you think a storm is approaching]?’

‘It seems so. The road towards Mabadmorpho has been blocked because of the fallen tree. Should I go downstairs and check?’

Miss pointed towards an umbrella and asked Asrar to carry it with him. He went out of the door and saw that a lot of water had collected on the stairs. He descended the stairs carefully and left the building. He opened the umbrella and proceeded towards the gate. The road that went to Mabadmorpho was now blocked by the fallen mango tree. The tree was quite old. A few more people came out of the building. One of them had a torch with him. He could now see a little light near the gate. The shower was heavy. The winds were overturning the umbrellas. A man, whose face Asrar didn’t see clearly, advised that they wait for the rains to subside and then come back and take a look at the fallen tree.

Another man readily agreed and said, ‘Hau master, abhi to bhotich barish ho rahi hai [Yes, master, it is raining heavily]. We’d better get back to our homes!’