‘YOU know I heard someone passing by my room wearing anklets. The noise came from the veranda, taking down the four steps and crossing my room, and went towards the back of our house.’ Suman looked at me with a mouthful of food with a quizzical look in his eyes. He kept grinding his chapatti as he spoke with a smile, ‘You are so imaginative! Why don’t you write some fiction? Seriously you could do well in the field.’ ‘What? You don’t believe me?’ ‘Well, wish I had time to sort that out? I have an office to attend, so please pass me my tea. Don’t want to be late.’ So we quietly had our tea. After he left I sat outside on the veranda. It was green everywhere I looked. I was quite excited about coming to stay in this teagarden when he got his job; it had been two weeks since I got here. It was a beautiful bungalow, made in the British era when tea plantation was in vogue. There were three bedrooms and a guestroom in the house. The sitting room was very big; it took up almost half of the ...