But Haresh, though he did indeed hear within a few days from Praha, was once again offered by the Personnel Office a job at Rs 28 a week: a pittance which succeeded in doing nothing but making him angry.
However, it reassured Umesh Uncle. ‘I told you that you would not get a job if you left this one. But you never took my advice; you considered yourself so smart. Look at you now, sponging off others, rather than working, like a man should.’
Haresh controlled himself before replying: ‘Thank you for your advice yet again, Umesh Uncle. It is as valuable as it has always been.’
Umesh Uncle, faced by Haresh’s sudden meekness, felt that his spirit had been broken, and that he would be an easier recipient for his counsel from then on. ‘It’s good that you’ve seen sense at last,’ he told him. ‘A man should never have too high an opinion of himself.’
Haresh nodded, his thoughts anything but meek.
13.21
WHEN, some weeks previously, Lata had received Haresh’s first letter – three pages written in his small, forward-slanting hand on his blue writing pad – she had replied to it in a friendly way. Half of Haresh’s letter had been concerned with trying to get a contact at the Praha Shoe Company to present his application to. Mrs Rupa Mehra had mentioned when they had all met in Kanpur that she knew someone who knew someone who might be able to help. In fact, it had turned out to be more difficult than she had imagined, and nothing had come of it. Haresh could not have known at the time that a strange series of events and the sympathy of Mr Mukherji would have got him to meet Mr Khandelwal, the Chairman of Praha, himself.
The other half of the letter had been personal. Lata had read it over a number of times. Unlike Kabir’s letter, it had made her smile:
This business being over [Haresh had written], let me hope in the usual way that you had a comfortable journey home and that you were missed by all who met you after such a long absence from Brahmpur. I hope the town has recovered from the disaster at the Pul Mela.
I must thank you for your visit to Kanpur and the nice time we spent together. There was none of that bashfulness or undue modesty and I am convinced that we can be friendly if nothing else. I quite appreciate your frankness and the way of putting things. I must admit that I have met few English girls who could speak English quite as well as you do. These qualities coupled with your way of dressing and personality make you a person far above the average, I think Kalpana was right in her praise of you. These may all seem flattering remarks but I write as I feel.
I have just today sent your photograph to my foster-father along with my impressions of you formed during our brief hours together. I shall let you know what he has to say…
Lata tried to work out what exactly it was about this letter that she liked. Haresh’s English was slightly odd. ‘In the usual way’ and ‘the way of putting things’, to take just two out of about ten examples in those three short paragraphs, jarred against her sense of the language. And yet the whole was not unpleasing. It was pleasant to be praised by someone who did not seem practised at praising – and who, for all his own abundant self-confidence, clearly admired her.
The more she read the letter, the more she liked it. But she waited a while before replying:
Dear Haresh,
I was very glad to get your letter, as you had indicated at the station that you wanted to write to me. I believe that this is a good way of getting to know each other.
We have not had much luck with the Praha Shoe Company, but the reason for that is that we are not at present in Calcutta and, apart from it being the Head Office of the company, Ma’s acquaintance lives there. But Ma has written to him, and let’s see what happens. She has also mentioned the matter to Arun, my brother, who lives in Calcutta, and he may be able to help. Let’s keep our fingers crossed.
It would be good if you were in Prahapore, for then when I am in Calcutta over the New Year holidays, we could see much more of each other in the ordinary course of things. It was good to meet you in Kanpur. I am very glad I broke journey there. I must thank you again for the trouble you took at Lucknow Station to see us safely into a compartment and to install our luggage there. We had a very comfortable journey back, and Pran – my brother-in-law – was there to greet us at the other end.
I am glad to know that you have written to your foster-father. I shall be keen to know what he thinks and says.
I must admit that it was interesting going around the tannery. I liked your Chinese designer. The way he spoke Hindi was delightful.
I like to see men with ambition like you – you should make good. It is also refreshing to meet a man who doesn’t smoke – I can assure you I admire it – because I think it requires a lot of character. I liked you because you were so frank and clear in all your statements – so different from the young men one generally meets in Calcutta, but not only in Calcutta – so polished, so charming, yet so insincere. Your sincerity is refreshing.