Page 6 of A Shimla Affair
‘This is Khushilalji,’ I introduced him to Charles, hoping to distract him from the monkeys, ‘He takes care of everyday things around the hotel, you know—managing the servants and the housekeeping staff, making sure the monkeys are kept at bay! And don’t be fooled, he may be half blind, but he sees things everyone misses and has the ears of a bat!’
‘Nalini Sahiba, you never miss the chance to call me a bat,’ he jokingly complained.
I laughed and was glad to see Charles join in.
‘Come, let’s get back inside, I’m yet to show you our special Oriental Bazaar …’
A corner of the foyer had been turned into a shop, an Oriental Bazaar, for the guests. Begum Jaan displayed her wares there, and we sold them together for a profit. Released yesterday, she was back, and gave Charles a special greeting, peering at him from behind her downcast eyes, sitting amidst handicrafts and curiosities.
‘So, one can buy things here?’
‘That’s right, Mr Nayler. Instead of having to venture into the local market, we give our guests a chance to shop for local talent right here.’
‘Would you like something, Sahib?’ Begum Jaan asked, and I hoped it was only I who heard the teasing in her tone.
He shook his head. We then headed up to the library.
‘It’s not that big,’ I admitted, ‘We get a lot of English people, so of course they leave their books all over. We have another Parsi gentleman who gives us many books. You can read all your Dickens, Shakespeare, whatever …’
He chuckled, looking around at the bookshelves. ‘Dickens, Shakespeare, whatever! And what do you like to read Miss Mistry?’
I stared at him before answering. ‘Tagore, Gandhi … Sarojini Naidu, Mulk Raj Anand.’
I was suddenly aware that we were completely alone in this small room, standing quite close to each other.
‘Impressive,’ he said.
‘I’m glad you think so, Mr Nayler,’ I said, stepping out.
‘Charles …’
‘Oh yes, I suppose so …’
He laughed again. ‘So, you live here at the hotel?’
I nodded. ‘Earlier, all of us sisters slept in the room on the topmost floor, but since last year, my eldest sister moved into her own room. It’s not such a big waste. Her room is a bit too damp to be good enough for a guest anyway.’
‘Must be exciting … I suppose you just wake up and start working on things around the hotel?’
‘Yes,’ I replied, puzzled at his question. ‘Why, what do you do?’
He thought about it for a moment and chuckled. ‘I suppose much the same, wake up and go to work. I do try to write in my diary every day before breakfast, though. Sometimes it’s the only moment I meet myself in the entire day.’
‘You meet yourself.That sounds appropriate. How is to meet yourself?’
He stopped walking because it seemed he had so much to think about this. ‘Every day is different … and insightful. Not to say I know myself better, but the quest remains. And what about you?’
I felt confronted with a question that I hadn’t thought of too much before. ‘I don’t know. I suppose I could say I meet myself, sometimes when I am in front of the mirror, pretending to be different characters from a movie. But I couldn’t say that’s meeting myself, could I? That’s perhaps rather meeting a fantasy of myself, a version of me filtered through another’s mind … oh look, I can’t stop talking. Anything else I can help you with regarding the hotel, Mr Nayler?’
Charles suddenly seemed to remember that he was really there to see the hotel. ‘No, I suppose we are done then.’
I walked him back down to the lobby.
‘It was very nice to meet you, and thank you for the tour of the hotel. It is beautiful … very much like yourself.’
I blushed, barely able to reply. ‘It was nice to meet you as well.’
He started to put on his coat. ‘Well … have a good day then, and see you around.’
