~~: Amaya :~~

That was the last we saw of Delhi. Three hours later we board a plane and three more hours later, we touch down in Dharamshala. The airport is cute, surrounded by green hills and blue, snow-capped mountains. The fresh hair hits me like a thousand watts shock. I give Dad a toothy grin, but he absolutely ignores me.

Humph! He is still grumpy. I know what I said earlier was below the belt, but I could not help it. Whatever this deal between my parents, between me and his work, I must get the priority. I deserve as much from Dad. From Mum, I have no such expectations.

In fact, when it comes to Mum, she surpasses my expectations in the reverse direction. Every time I feel it can't get any worse, she proves me wrong. Take the example of this last holiday. It was Diwali. The school was off for three weeks and I was with Mum. The first two days went okay, but on the third, Mum packed my bag. I don't know if she got bored or Uncle Sandeep's sudden arrival changed our plans, but she dropped me at Home for the rest of the holiday. Luckily, I didn't feel lonely as there were others like me. It just about stopped me from pitying myself to celebrate the festival with those orphans. In the end, when Dad came to pick me up, I was back at Mum's place. I never told him about it as I didn't want to start another fight between them, but now that I think of it, I feel should have told him.

Now it's too late. I brood as Dad straps me to a taxi seat for the next leg of our journey. I don't even know how many such 'legs' are there and it's unlikely that Dad will share with me anytime soon.

The war of silence continues. He talks to the void when giving me instructions. I answer with grunts. It is fun initially, but as time passes, we both become miserable.

The journey is long. From Dharamshala, we go to Chamba, from there to Triloknath, then to Karpat. It takes us two whole days. Dad takes regular breaks to make sure I am comfortable, but by the time we reach Ratiyaal, I am stiff as a log. My legs need a massage and my back hurts. Sitting for hours has worsened my constipation and I am in pain. Dad gives me his famous 'I told you so' look, but I ignore it resolutely. It's been a fun trip, but now that we are here, I am getting a peculiar feeling.

Ratiyaal is a quiet place. It must be 8 or 9 in the night, but the darkness is so deep as if the sun has never risen here. As the taxi crawls on a bumpy road with barely any streetlight, I feel like I'm entering an ancient cave. A dark, damp, and mouldy cave, except for the glimpses of those bright amber eyes.

Eyes, did I say? Well, I could be wrong. They could be fireflies or some trick of the car lights, but then they always appear in pairs. And they always seem to be looking in our direction.

Shivering, I move away from the window and closer to Dad. He puts his arm around me.

"Don't worry, pet. We are nearly there."

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It is the first time in the last forty-eight hours that he spoke to me straight. Relief floods through me as I rest my head on his shoulder, yet my eyes remain open, looking out for the amber.

*****

An hour later, we have reached. It's a medium-sized cottage, but I cannot be sure. A man is standing on the dimly lit porch. As Dad gets out, he comes down to greet him.

"Mr. Khanna. Welcome. I am Vikram Malhotra. I take it your journey was pleasant?"

They shake hands. He looks the same age as Dad, but a foot shorter. What he lacks in height, though, he makes up in girth. His stomach is bulging over his trouser belt as if he is six months pregnant. I snort at the idea, attracting his attention. His smile fades just as he sees me snigger through the car window.

"That's my daughter, Amaya," Dad makes the introductions. Vikram Malhotra gives a curt nod.

"We had an agreement, Mr. Khanna. I think we ought to talk."

"Yes," Dad replies dryly. "I think so too."

They want to talk about me. This is Dad's work trip and Malhotra is probably his employer. Dad was not supposed to bring his disabled kid with him and probably that's why Malhotra wants to discuss the agreement.

My face clouds. As much as I hate Dad's work (and I am not talking about the teaching), I do not want to jeopardize it. Dad loves his job. It's his passion, one could say his reason to live. I never understood it, but I do not wish to ruin it.

We go in. Whatever the initial excitement of our meeting, has disappeared altogether. We are a quiet group. I glance at Malhotra as Dad carries me in. He looks in some deep thought. His eyes flicker to me from time to time as if weighing some options. I can't make my mind whether to like him or not. Then I decide there is nothing either to like or dislike.

An hour later, the driver has left. We have eaten and Dad has given me a warm bath. Mr. Malhotra is waiting for him in the living room to have his talk - patiently, might I add - but Dad looks in no rush.

He has settled me in a small bedroom at the back of the cottage. It's not a very large house after all, just a two-storied building with three downstairs rooms and probably another three upstairs. I'll know tomorrow when I inspect the house in broad daylight.

As of now, it is late. Dad has massaged my back and is finishing my legs. My trip to the toilet is over and now my eyes are droopy, but I cannot rest before I've had my say.

"Is...Mr Malhotra your boss?"

Dad looks surprised. "Not boss. But yes, he has a job, and he chose me for it."

"Is it a hard job?" I am curious.

"Not too hard. No." Dad replies after a moment. "But it could be tricky."

"How tricky?"

"Quite tricky." Dad huffs. "Now what's all this about, Miss? Why are you suddenly worried about my job?"

"Can you do it with me here?" His face shutters with a snap. I wonder if I offended him.

"Dad? Can you still do your work with me here?"

"Sleep pet. You have had a long day. And I need to go back to Malhotra."

"Don't avoid me, Dad. Tell me, will you still be able to do it? If not, will you send me back? If you are sending me back, I must tell you I'm not going to Mum's place. You can directly send me to the Home, I won't mind. And if you can keep me here," I pause, thinking. I must offer something good. Something so good, Dad will have to let me stay. "I promise I'll be no trouble. I'll stay out of your way. I'll read my books and take my tablets and not badger you for our holiday list. I'll let you do your work and not be a pain in the ass."

I wait for his response, but none comes. He shoud at least chastise me for my choice of phrase but he doesn't. A blue vein pops on his forehead, but otherwise he looks perfectly calm.

"Thank you for your consideration, Ms. Khanna," He pinches my nose making me squeak in consternation. "I must say it's a tempting offer. I shall think about it and let you know...maybe in a couple of days?"

He leans in, growls, and bites my cheek, then starts tickling my sides. By the time he is done, I have forgotten what it is all about.

***** *****