The hair care products were located in the deepest aisle in the shop, and Hashwini had to squeeze past the throng of shoppers. She spotted Kaustubh at the far corner unloading bottled beers from the crates onto the shelves. When she finally reached the last aisle, she was dismayed to discover that the hair care products had been repositioned, and the kaffir lime hair conditioner had been moved to the top shelf. What she wanted was way out of reach.

Hashwini fought her way to the bottled beer section to grab hold of Kaustubh.

“I need your help. I can’t reach the top shelf.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, I am really, really busy here.”

Hashwini felt a wave of resurgent irritability, but reminded herself that losing her temper would not get her what she wanted. Perhaps she should take a leaf out of her grandmother’s book and play the card of vulnerability.

“I know you’re busy, but what can I do? I wish I were tall enough.”

The surly young man pointed at the far end of the aisle and said, “Good thing the ladder’s been invented. Help yourself.”

Hashwini almost blew her top. She stormed to the far end, grabbed the ladder and started shouting give way, give way as she bulldozed her way through. Her ambulance siren transformed into that of a fire truck. When her vehicle scraped an elbow, she bellowed such an aggressive sorry that the victim cowered and ducked away.

Hashwini’s rage escalated when she discovered that the ladder wobbled horribly against the shelves. She spotted a scrawny man squatting beside her, examining the range of bar soaps on display on the lowest shelf. The man was unlikely to be tall, but he would have to do. Hashwini reached out to tap on his shoulder and requested as politely as she could manage, in Tamil, “Can you please help me?”

The moment the man stood up, Hashwini realised she had made a terrible choice. Not only was the man barely five centimetres taller than she, his eyes were bleary and his breath reeked; he must have downed several cans of beer earlier in the night. There was no way he could balance himself on the ladder. It would have to be she.

“Can you please help to hold the ladder?”

The man stared at Hashwini for an uncomprehending second, stared at the ladder for another and finally nodded. Hashwini waited for the man to secure the ladder with both hands before she ascended. She had made it up only three rungs when both of them heard a shrill beeping. The ladder started to wobble the moment the man released his left hand to reach for the mobile phone in his trouser pocket. Hashwini gasped as she felt herself gradually leaning towards the hair colouring products on the left, and then pivoting towards the range of shaving creams behind her. She grabbed onto the nearest shelf for dear life.