“Why hasn’t he turned up yet?” I thought and stepped into the balcony. It was pitch dark. A cat crumbled under a tree to get some warmth. The rains had stopped. As the breeze brushed against the leaves of the trees, they shed some drops of water. “Someone is at the door” I turned back walked to the door and answered it. “It must be Swami,” I thought.
I opened the door and saw Gopi standing there, drenched with a vegetable basket in his hand. I went back to the balcony. “Dry yourself before you catch a cold,” I shouted.
Gopi, who had served us for more than twenty years now, had always been at my service, as though saying “Your wish is my command!”. He was the reason I was surviving my lonely life at the age of seventy even after my wife left the world, ten years ago and my only son, left the house fourteen years ago. I looked at the time and out again at the deserted street. There was still no sign of my paternal cousin, Swami. I was expecting him today. I had gone over the details of the company handover and supervised the preparations for the legal formalities. I hadn’t expected that the procedure would be completed so quickly, but Narayan, my company lawyer had managed it very well.