The Green Fields

Chapter 1

Armaan was almost pushed out of the overcrowded bus. He was lucky to find his footing or it would have been a dirty fall. He steadied himself and called after the bus. “Hey”, he shouted angrily. No heads turned. Even the hanging conductor didn’t seem to bother with him. ”Bastard”, he cursed under his breath. Hanging his bag over his shoulder, he turned the other way and started walking home.

Avoiding ditches, filled up by the past night’s rain, he reached the society gate. The watchman barely looked up from his phone as he passed by. Armaan had half a mind made up to turn around and discipline the guard but then decided against it. Let his foul mood devour just him for the day, he thought. Head down, he approached the building.

The lift wasn’t working. In fact, it hadn’t been working for the past four days. The society heads had been notified. But as usual, they were impassive. He looked at the stairs, getting irritated at the very thought of climbing them. Expectedly he pressed the lift call button. Nothing happened. He waited naively for a few hopeful seconds and then gave up. Dejected, he began his climb.

He was out of breath by the time he reached the tenth floor and was panting hard and sweating profusely as he rang the bell. The door was opened by the maid. He entered without smiling. Setting his bag down on the sofa and landing heavily beside it, he relaxed into the softness and laid back his head. Overhead he saw the fan spin with all its might, its wind blowing his hair and washing over his face.

Geeta di, the maid, by then had disappeared into the kitchen to complete the remaining chores. Now that he had arrived, she would soon leave. She had one more house to attend to before she could actually take her leave for the night. She had a daughter of eight back at home who would be waiting for her. Armaan had met the little girl a few times when Geeta di had brought her over. She was a bright little child. Always stuck with her mother and always silent. Though poor, she didn’t lack good manners. Once, when he had given her some sweets, she had received it with a sincere ‘thank you’. She had even edged forward to touch his feet but he had intervened. There was no need, he remembered saying to her, touching her head and smiling at her blushing face.

Armaan sat there closing his eyes and listening to the silence around him. Well, not complete silence ofcourse. For starters, there was Geeta di, with her ‘clink’ and ‘clank’s of the utensils from the kitchen. Then, there was the muffled sound of heavy music from the apartment upstairs. But these sounds, he welcomed. It created a serene and secure environment he could call home. And right then, he was enjoying that homely silence.

Suddenly he began to crave for a cup of tea. He didn’t want to get up, go to the kitchen and make one for himself. Also, he couldn’t ask Geeta di for some. If she made it, he couldn’t drink it. This was one of his weird obsessions. He could drink tea only if he made it himself. According to him, others could never get the taste right. Sometimes the sugar was too much or the leaves too little. This habit of his, annoyingly barred him from having a relaxing cup of tea anywhere but his home. Also, it often led him into some awkward circumstances. People generally had a tendency of mistaking his behavior for rudeness. And he never had any inclination of correcting them.

It was awkward even for Geeta di, when she had first come to work for them. Armaan was sure, their maid thought of him as an obnoxious entity until his wife had explained the situation to her. He remembered her saying, that both of them had quite a lengthy discussion regarding the weirdness of males. He didn’t seem to mind.

“Dada, I’m leaving.”

Armaan opened his eyes to see Geeta di moving towards the door. She had a thin cloth bag in one hand and the other on the door handle while her feet found her slippers from the corner. She opened the door and got out looking at him. He shook his head in response and the door closed. The apartment flooded back with silence.