Six months back

A middle-aged man is pacing about restlessly in a sophisticated lobby. He is semi-bald, lean, almost to the level of being skinny, wearing black cotton trousers, a plain white half-sleeved shirt, and shining brown Khadim's sandals. He casts an occasional glance at his wrist watch. 7:45 pm. He has been waiting in the foyer for the last half an hour, along with a few others perched at the edge of their seats, nervously waiting for the receptionist to announce their names.

The man adjusts his square-shaped spectacles a little and stands up. He soon locates what he is looking for; a water cooler at the end of the hallway. He ambles towards it, takes out a paper glass from a stack beside the cooler, and pours himself some cold water. He quaffs the water in one go and then pours himself another glass. The moment he gulps it, his eyes fall on a woman right ahead in the foyer where he was sitting. The man particularly notices her because she has raised her hand a little to draw his attention. Also, she is his wife.

She has come dressed in a gorgeous chiffon saree with a matching blouse and sandals. Unlike the other ladies present around her, she has applied oodles of make-up on her face. At her age, her overall dressing looks loud and bizarre. Even though the air-conditioner in the room is on full-blast, the woman keeps pretending to wipe non-existent sweat drops from her forehead and cheeks with her handkerchief. Her hair is jet black, almost like she is wearing a wig.

As the man by the water cooler fills a glass of water for his wife, an intercom buzzes loudly, breaking the otherwise brittle silence to pieces. The receptionist, a young female sitting behind a semi-circular table at one end of the entrance, picks up the receiver on the second ring.

'Yes ma'am, she says. After a few seconds, she calls out to the man by the water cooler, 'Mr Hansul, please go in. You're next.'

Nihil Hansul quickly empties his glass in the cooler's sink and joins his wife, Nishi. The urgency in their demeanor alarms the onlookers.

In his head, Nihil had formed a picture of the woman they are about to meet-middle aged, well past her menopause, and a strict feminist. There was no particular reason why Nihil had that image of the woman. But the person waiting for them shatters his perception completely. This is a girl, and not a woman to begin with. She is wearing a crisp business suit, her hair is neatly done up with a couple of loose strands falling on either side of her face. She is sitting straight with her hands clasped together on the large wooden table behind which she is sitting-a very corporate pose. Her black carbon square specs suit her oval face well.

'Good evening ma'am. May we please come in?' Nihil says hoping he has subdued his male ego enough in his voice. Rarely before has Nihil ever needed anyone's permission for anything. But this, of course, is different.

'Yes please Mr..' The girl galnces at her iPad once, kept besides her, and says, 'Nihil Hansul.'

The couple came in with a pseudo-smartness about them and take seats opposite the girl. Nishi gives the girl a plastic smile and says, 'Mr Sinha recommended you to us.'

'Sinha?' There is a slight twitch in the girl's eyebrow as if she is trying to recollect.

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