Page 18 of Made in Mumbai

“Upstairs is the terrace, and on the east wing terrace is Gautam Sir’s office.”

“Oh ok…”

Trisha’s phone buzzed and she glanced at it.

“Sorry, I need to take this. Come on… Hello? Yes…” Trisha quickly descended the gentle sweeping staircase that was curving down towards her office. Maya bit her lip, then glanced surreptitiously up at the terraces. Another set of sweeping blue staircase wound up there. Like some way to heaven. There was no roof there, and green planters lined the way. Tree trunks were piercing the natural structure of the villa. Her feet tingled.

Maya glanced down but Trisha was long gone.

“3, 2, 1…” she counted down. And her intent was still strong. So she turned and bounded up the stairs.

The space went quieter and quieter. And greener. The sound of chirping birds and dripping water abounded here. If she thought the planters downstairs were ‘green,’ then here was a whole forest. The tree trunks she had seen grow through the floors bloomed here, looking lush after the recent shower. Cool rain water still dripped, making the terracotta-lined floor wet. Almond, Peepal, Mango, Jamun… tree canopies were thick and the terrace floor was already littered with fallen leaves and tiny Jamuns. Maya went ahead to the parapet and plucked one swollen Jamun. Her tongue tingled. She wasn’t fond of the fruit per se, but it made tongues purple.

She bit into the flesh, the tart flavour almost bitter. She made a face. Tiny droplets found her cheek from the canopy and she smiled. She nibbled on the Jamun, wandering around the terrace. A set of three stairs led up to another terrace, and she climbed them. Only to stop short. Here was a whole house made of glass. Not mirror exactly but it was partly reflective. She could see the Arabian sea in its reflection and when she turned, she discovered that the Carter Road promenade was visible right from the parapet of this terrace. She ran to the balustrade and leaned out.

“Wow…” she stood mesmerised. “Coffee break point found,” she made a note to herself, licking the bitten Jamun flesh to add more purple to her tongue. She lolled her tongue out to see. The tip wasn’t as easily visible. So she turned to the glass house, rolling her tongue out fully to check if the colour was dark enough.

The door opened. And out came a broad chest stretched in a white shirt. Maya trailed her eyes up the thick column of throat, stubbled jaw, compressed lips and a straight nose. Her breath caught, tongue still out. She squinted.

“G?” She asked. Then shook her head — “No, no. Sorry. I thought you are someone I knew… Hi, I am…”

“M,” he frowned. His voice thicker, more firm, more… just more than before. Maya swallowed, the Jamun squeezing in her fingers.

“What are you doing over here?”

“Working. What are you doing…?” His eyes trailed down to her tongue that kept lolling out every few seconds, down to her chest, then back up. She was frozen, her brain blank. Nothing passed through it.How was that possible? No thought? What to do now?

“I asked you something.”

She startled at his curt words.

“Oh… umm,” she blinked, her brain kickstarting again. And with it, her tongue rolled with its usual flow — “I am the new Senior Textile Designer. It’s my first day. You… are you the owner whose office is up here?”

“Yes.”

“Wow… Hey, listen, I am sorry… for that morning at Carters. It’s so long back now but I shouldn’t have spoken so rudely to you. I…”

“It’s fine. You may get back to…”

"How did all this happen?!” She perked up. “What have you been up to all these years? By the way, you have made a unique office. Can I see…?” She tried to peep around him but he crossed his arms across his chest.

“Who let you up?”

“I didn’t know there was a curfew here. They said you don’t mingle much and you are busy this week. I just wanted to check out the space.”

“Right. Don’t come up here again unless you are called. And wear something that is workplace appropriate.”

With that he stepped back and shut the glass door.

Shock paralysed her. But only for a few seconds. She bounced back then.

“And wear something that is workplace appropriate,” Maya mouthed, making a face at his door.

“I can see that,” came his voice from the other side.

Shit.She glanced at herself, purple tongue and all. Then at her chest. Her hair had slid back in all the frolicking. And the bright red bra straps were still visible under brand new wet splotches on her shirt.Shit.

2. Cheeni Kum

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