Today, he looked different. Tall, as usual, but his arms, smooth and well-toned like fish scales, had never caught her attention before. How could they? He was always dressed in formal shirts. But today, he was in a dark-colored T-shirt, a first in the office. The carefree weekend vibe draped over his body, and there was a light daze in his eyes—something that comes naturally with age.
Could he be younger? Today, he looked like a college student, barely nineteen. His jeans were light blue, tight, almost like those worn by rowdies. His shoes were white with heavy laces.
Roli Ma'am's heart started beating faster. For the first time, she noticed how childlike his face really was. Should Roli Ma'am reconsider? No, he's working in an office; he must be at least twenty-two or twenty-three. They don’t hire anyone under twenty-one. Some faces just appear innocent, and his cute face made his tousled hair look even silkier.
But life can't be lived in fear. Physical pleasure is often a result of taking risks.
Roli was a smart woman in her mid-thirties to early forties, the second-most senior executive in the office. Draped in a tight sari that revealed her navel, she was a beautiful woman, and the word "abandoned" didn’t suit her at all. How could it? Who would have the courage to leave a woman like Roli? If anything, she would have left that inhuman man herself. But she held back, thinking of her daughter, Dasha. How could she send her little girl’s father into the dark, foggy wilderness? That’s why she endured his absurdity. Otherwise, she would have kicked out such a worthless man long ago.
Three years ago, he left Roli on his own, accusing her of being of loose character. He didn’t even care for their twelve-year-old daughter, who was studying in boarding school. Now, Roli was both mother and father to her daughter.
Roli was still young, not even forty yet. She used to wear jeans, skirts, and all kinds of modern dresses, but after her husband left, she wore saris reluctantly because her daughter didn’t like those clothes. Even today, no one would believe she was over thirty. Driving a four-wheeler in a sari was no big deal, but when she rode her scooter, she still wore her favorite outfits. After all, she had to prepare her daughter for the modern world too.
Roli believed that if you cover up too much, people start guessing your size. But if you show it off yourself, they lower their heads and move on. Maybe it was this philosophy that gave her husband the courage to accuse Roli of infidelity before leaving. Despite her friends’ attempts to persuade her, Roli wasn’t ready to remarry. But she wasn’t behind in keeping up with the times either. She’d joke that women are no less than men; if they can manage with their secretaries and typists while being big officers, why can’t we? After all, she was handling a senior position too.
And it was this carefree attitude that struck a chord with Aryan, the new young man in the office.
Roli Ma'am noticed that Aryan wouldn’t pull his hand away when their hands brushed while he handed her documents. So she started complimenting him excessively.
During their conversations, Roli Ma'am would casually slip into more personal topics while discussing his family. Aryan, who looked like a handsome model, would blush and lower his eyes at her comments, fueling Roli Ma'am’s weekend plans.
After a few such encounters, Roli Ma'am was convinced that the boy was obedient and ambitious. She invited Aryan to spend a night with her. Living in a flat with friends, Aryan didn’t see any problem with this. It was decided that he would go home with Roli Ma'am on Friday evening and stay the night.
And today, as Friday arrived, Roli Ma'am eagerly awaited the evening, having been charmed by the boy all day. She had even brought her car and booked tickets for the last show at the farthest multiplex in the city. Aryan drove on the way back, as they returned home after having dinner at the mall at 12:15 a.m.
Roli Ma'am watched him from the side, even when he changed gears or pressed the accelerator. It gave her a strange thrill. Was this the same Aryan who would wait with folded hands for her orders in the office? Away from the discipline of the office, amidst the city lights, he looked incredibly sweet.
But who would explain to Roli Ma'am that this trembling waterfall was flowing toward her thirsty hands for a whole long, dark night?
As soon as they arrived home, Roli Ma'am felt as if tiny wheels had been attached to her feet, flowers of night jasmine had blossomed on her hands, and golden wings had sprouted on her back. It didn’t feel like the usual return from the office.
It was as if the entire house had lost its gravity. Each step felt like gliding across the floor.
Roli Ma'am took a long look at Aryan and handed him the designer shorts she had once bought for her daughter, Dasha, who had refused to wear them, saying they were too big and looked more suitable for a boy.
Aryan hesitated for a moment and softly said, "I'll sleep in my jeans, Ma'am." But Roli Ma'am, as if giving an order, insisted, "Be comfortable!"
Aryan quietly took the shorts and walked into the dark living room.
But when Aryan returned, wearing the shorts, Roli Ma'am had already gone to the washroom to change. He stood there for a moment, then sat on a chair. It felt strange being alone in his boss's house, dressed like this for the first time at night. The shorts, designed for Dasha, were quite bright in color and very soft. Aryan could feel them sliding over his thighs like a silk scarf. The soft drawstring felt almost non-existent, and his hand kept going there to adjust it.
Soon, the washroom door opened, and a wave of intoxicating perfume filled the room. Following the scent, Roli Ma'am emerged, like a glass tower. Aryan couldn't bear to look directly at her.
The transparent, sheer pink gown she wore was nothing more than a few bright flowers clinging to her body like patches. Aryan could never have imagined in his wildest dreams that beneath that messy bun of her hair were locks that hung down past her knees.
Roli Ma'am, after placing a large pillow behind her head, asked Aryan to sit comfortably in the bedroom and went to the kitchen. A few moments later, she returned with a large glass of warm milk on a tray, but Aryan was pacing by the bed, talking on his mobile phone.
As Roli Ma'am offered the glass, he motioned for her to wait and stepped into the drawing room, pulling the curtain aside. With a finger gesture, he seemed to ask for permission to finish his call, then continued pacing in the other room, engrossed in conversation.
Roli Ma'am placed the tray on a stool and sat down, growing increasingly restless, as if each passing moment in this golden night was being wasted. He wasn't coming, and the night wouldn’t last forever!
In the office, Aryan would have dropped everything to come running at Roli Ma'am's call, even in the middle of a conversation. But this was Roli Ma'am's home, and in the silver shadows of this intoxicating night, Aryan was not her subordinate. He was the prince who had come to make her night bloom. She waited patiently.
Aryan's voice continued to murmur on the phone, his footsteps echoing as he walked back and forth behind the curtain. The milk was getting cold. Roli Ma'am stretched and glanced at the glass of milk.
She tried to express her growing frustration to Aryan, raising her voice slightly, "The milk is getting cold, Aryan! Do I have to go back to the kitchen to warm it up?"
Aryan, still holding the phone with one hand, pushed the curtain aside with the other and entered the room, picked up the glass, and left again. The swaying curtain seemed to mock Roli Ma'am as Aryan disappeared behind it.
Roli Ma'am placed her hand on her forehead and leaned back on the pillow. Aryan's voice continued as before. Every now and then, he would take a sip of milk, then resume talking. It was already 1:30 a.m.
Roli Ma'am's house was not used to staying lit so late. Sometimes, when Dasha came home, they would stay up late talking.
Roli Ma'am turned off the bright light in the bedroom, leaving only a soft night lamp on. In this bluish-silver light, Aryan's shadow, as he passed by the gap in the curtain, seemed to Roli Ma'am like Cupid himself, surveying the scene before entering the bedroom!
Oh, when Roli Ma'am’s half-asleep eyes, shaken from a slight doze, glanced at the clock on the wall, it showed 2:15 a.m. Aryan's murmurs continued.
Roli Ma'am got up, went to the washroom again, and when she returned, there was a slight change in the color of her eyes, as if the sleepy eyes of the rainbow had crossed the violet, indigo, blue, and green colors and were now heading toward yellow.
She pulled back the curtain and entered the drawing room, snapping, "Who are you talking to, man? Is he or she a night shift worker? What’s happening? It’s three o'clock!"
Aryan was taken aback by her tone. Quickly, he put the phone on hold, covered the receiver, and said, "You go to sleep, ma'am. I'll sleep here in the drawing room."
Roli Ma'am was stunned. Then, regaining her composure, she said, "How will you sleep here on the sofa? There's an empty bed inside... come!"
"You sleep, ma'am. Just give me a pillow, and I'll sleep here. No problem."
"Oh no, you can't sleep here."
"Then I'll come inside. You go ahead and sleep," Aryan said, almost pleadingly.
"But I won't be able to sleep like this..."
"Then I'll leave," Aryan said, somewhat surprised.
At this point, Roli Ma'am lost her temper. She said, "As you wish! Do you think you'll find any vehicle this late at night?"
Aryan was a bit flustered and then, disappointed, said, "I'll walk."
Roli Ma'am, still speaking harshly, said, "Okay, take the scooter and return it the day after tomorrow at the office!" She turned around like a tigress, went inside to fetch the scooter keys, and Aryan quickly changed out of his shorts into jeans. He slipped on his shoes without tying the laces, took the keys from her, and walked out.
He rode the scooter at such a speed as if he were on a powerful bike. Roli Ma'am shuddered.
She slammed the door shut, turned off the lights, and collapsed onto her bed like a fallen tree.
Tears welled up in her eyes.
She cried uncontrollably for an hour, remembering her family and the days gone by. Thoughts of Dasha and her father kept coming to her mind.
Sleep was nowhere near her eyes.
She was angry at Aryan, yet puzzled too. Why had he come? Was he really just a child, scared into coming by following his officer's orders? Had he come with the innocent desire to share her loneliness?
Could it be that he was remembering Dasha, dreaming of meeting her in the future, and trying to build a connection with her? After all, Dasha was now over fifteen years old.
Thinking of all this, at some unknown hour of dawn, Roli Ma'am finally fell asleep.
* * *
Aryan didn’t tell his friends anything after returning the previous night, but inside, he felt humiliated. The next day, he couldn't focus on anything.
He was certain his job wouldn't last now; he would surely lose it. What would he tell his mother at home?
He didn't feel like going to the office on Monday. He had already decided to resign before getting fired. He didn't want to carry the stain of being dismissed from a job so early in his career.
But he had to return Roli Ma'am's scooter.
On Monday, with a heavy heart, he got ready in the morning. He put his resignation letter in his pocket.
He didn’t have breakfast and left for the office.
Everything was as usual at the office, as if nothing had happened. And why would it? The storm had come into Aryan's life; it had nothing to do with anyone else!
Roli Ma'am was in her cabin.
Shortly after, Aryan was summoned by her, and he walked towards the cabin with heavy steps.
When he entered, he greeted Roli Ma'am. He wasn’t looking at her, and she wasn’t looking at him either.
As if nothing had happened, Roli Ma'am said to Aryan, "You sent this file, right? Check the estimate in section nine again, dear." She slid the file toward him.
Aryan was surprised, not because it was the first time a mistake had been found in his estimate, but because it was the first time Roli Ma'am had called him "dear."
A light flickered on somewhere inside him. He took out the scooter keys from his pocket and handed them to Roli Ma'am.
As Roli Ma'am’s fingers touched Aryan’s hand while taking the keys, Aryan didn’t pull his hand away but walked around the table and gently bent down to touch her feet.
Roli Ma'am was taken aback.
After a pause, she softly asked, "Dear, do you have a girlfriend?"
Aryan blushed and said, "No, ma'am. I was teaching my younger sister math over the phone in the village last night. You know, dad isn’t around, and mom isn’t educated. She had an exam the next morning and wouldn’t let me go."
Roli Ma'am quickly turned her revolving chair around so that Aryan wouldn’t see her crying as he left the cabin!
The yellow hues of despair in her eyes, crossing the orange shades of anger, were now dipped in the red streaks of tears brought on by remorse. The rainbow had vanished.
