The story is set in
Hong Kong, where Raghav and Kareena employ an Afghan driver, Mohammad Khan. Mohammad
Khan wears a flowing beard, refuses to look women in the eye and prays five times
a day. A Nepali maid looks after the two children in the family. Her name is
Parbati and she is from Siliguri in India. She is withdrawn, but emanates a
calm strength. Parbati and Mohammad have different backgrounds, different
beliefs, follow different faiths. Yet something unites them – their love for
the young children of the family, and a yearning for the mountain homes they
have left behind. As the days pass, they realize that nobody understands them
better than the other, but do they have a future?
This story is real
because stories like this take place everyday.
The story will unfold
through normal events that take place in any family and will include descriptions
of the underrated natural beauty of Hong Kong. We will delve into the
back-stories of the characters and how that informs the decisions they take. An
excerpt from the story-
He drove into the
petrol pump, and while getting out, turned back to explain, rather needlessly,
“There is no petrol, madam.”
“Why does he look
sideways when he talks to me? It’s so creepy!” Kareena had the quick and
breathless British diction of a certain kind of Hong Konger. “Like he’s got no
eyes, know what I mean? But Raghav went on about how he is being respectful and
how their people have ‘tehzeeb’ and all that...”
“Yes it’s a pity,” her
friend agreed. “If he ditched the skull cap and shaved his beard, he’d be quite
dishy, don’t you think?”
“Puh-leez!” squeaked
Kareena, “He’s not old or anything, I grant you; his ID says he’s twenty seven.
But his eyes!”
Parbati, sitting in
front, was too surprised for words. Maybe it was the beard or the Pathani Suits,
or his gentle demeanour; she had thought of Mohammad Khan as an older man. She
looked at him as he walked back after paying the petrol bill. He wore a loose shirt
over track pants she realized, not a Pathani suit, and he was tall and
strapping under those clothes. He got in and turned around as always. “Chocolate
for Rishi Baba,” he said, to a chorus of protests. “Mohammad, you cannot give
Rishi sweets. I am serious.” Kareena was worked up. “Parbati this is for you
too. Don’t let him give any sweets to the children, do you hear me?” Parbati
involuntarily looked at Mohammad just as he turned to her, his eyes full of
humour and mischief. He had forgotten to look away. Parbati’s breath caught. He
had the most beautiful brown eyes, fringed by the darkest thickest lashes she
had seen. His eyes…
