Читать книгу Lucky You - John Duke - Страница 15

Not long after Eliot had closed his eyes and not too far away from the Emperor Residency, Pintu and Ravi sat on two pallet beds under a shelter of blue plastic tarpaulin in front of the house and taxi depot of Mr. Aadi Baag, the almost mansion of the owner of the clapped out taxi that they drove every day and night. Despite the hour, Mr. Baag was there in the heat of the night, ready to take his entitlement. As he waited for his entitlement he stroked his thin black moustache that had not a hint of grey. Sensibly Pintu and Ravi’s had a secret and that was that they had held back a bit of the money that they were expected to give up and tomorrow they hoped that the man with the ponytail would provide them with more.

The taxi’s engine made cracking noises as it cooled and they sat on the pallets and drank Director’s Special from a bottle they kept under the front seat from glasses that they kept in the glove box. Because they would be returning to Dum Dum in the morning and the morning was not too far away they had decided that driving to the comforts of home in Rajpur Sonarpur was not a good idea, so Pintu had sent a message to Nerada to say they would not be coming home, so that when the whiskey kicked in proper they could lie back on their pallets and catch a bit of sleep.

This Mr.Eliot he is OK I am thinking and he is not having his head up his arse like a lot of tourists and he is being friendly.

Yes he is OK, but they are all the same, he thinks that he will miss those rupees, it is like what do they say, chicken feet to him. In Australia he proabably lives on a big house with a swimming pool. You know my cousin, Ajit, he is living in Perth and he tells me that everyone has a swimming pool behind their house and maybe three cars in their garage and maybe a boat as well. Everyone is rich even if they don’t think they are.

Well all the better for us tomorrow Ravi, soon you can buy Aditya a new sari and little Virat his school books.

There is another thing that I don’t understand about the westerner men. Why do they dress like little boy? This Mr. Eliot is old but he dresses in shorts and sandals and silly T shirt. How old does he think he is? He is like our children. And I am looking at his hair and laughing inside. He is looking like a tail of a horse. I am thinking that when one is getting this old they should be home having their grandchildren on their knees. It is too old to be travelling like a single man who wants a bit of everything. I think that their fathers are spoiling them when they are growing up so maybe they never grow up

Yes I am seeing this too and maybe because life is too easy that is another reason that they never grow up, always being the little boy who is expecting everything to happen just for him, like he is wanting. Maybe you and I are lucky that we grow up in Kolkata where there are simple problems.....but I am also thinking I am tired and it is time for some sleep.

Pintu lay back on the pallet and rested his head on his hands.

Good night Ravi, tomorrow it will be another day.

Good night Pintu the door.

They both smiled in the half light.