2 The Man In Black.

"Excuse me," a husky voice spoke. It was a male. Priyanka brought her hands down slowly, before opening her eyes. She wanted to see the man who ruined her dress for the competition, before she could showcase it at the dancing house.

He was dressed in a black shirt and trousers. On his feet, he wore a pair of boots to match. She could not see his face because of the helmet he had on. The strong scent of the perfume he wore filled her nose like it was made from a sweet pea fragrance. Nevertheless, she did not fall for it. The owner of the bike was from high society. Letting him go, shows that she was weak. Doesn't it?

"Were you blind?" Priyanka asked the stranger, who was way taller than her. The height difference was so obvious that he even stood out in the environment.

"I am sorry, Miss, I was absent minded. I didn't see you nor the mud," the man said, in a low tone. By this time, the surrounding people had gathered around to watch the drama. She knew that middle-class people were going to use this as the headline for their local news.

"You were absent-minded while driving?" She looked at him once again. The helmet hid his face. She wanted to see his face. The expression he made as she spoke to him.

How on earth will one drive with an absent mind? If he was not feeling too well today, he should have asked his driver to drive him around instead of causing accidents for innocent victims like her.

But the rich people did not care about them. The man would not try such a thing in the urban areas. She heard that there were road rules and regulations. They dare not disobey them, because the road safety agency would arrest them.

"I said I am sorry, young lady," the stranger said, angrily. He put his hands into his jacket pocket and brought a white handkerchief. "Take this and clean that stain over there."

Priyanka was surprised that he changed the conversation so quickly. Taking the handkerchief, she began to mumble. The stain was much. She tried cleaning it but it did not go away at all, "Do you think this piece of cloth will undo what you just did? No, it won't. That's all, you rich people think. You can't clean all your mistakes with money."

The people started laughing. Some of them gave her the morale to continue with her speech. They supported her. She turned to the stranger who was still standing in front of her, "Take your cloth." She threw the handkerchief at him. "Thank you for ruining my day. I won't make it to the dancing house with this dirty dress."

The stranger pulled his leather jacket and handed it to her, "Please manage this. Don't miss your work because of me. It was an accident. I was in a hurry to meet my patient."

Priyanka gave a look that must have sent cold shivers to his spine. Was he bragging to her that he was a doctor?

'He looks like an agent of death,' She said to herself, before taking the jacket from him. Even though she was furious, she did not forget to say, "Thank you, sir. Learn to obey the road rules even when you are in the slums. We are humans too."

He nodded and went back to his bike. It seemed the man did not want the crowd to know his identity. The dark helmet was on his head the whole time. It was not transparent. Maybe he could see them but they could not see him.

She watched him sit on the bike and drive away at a full speed. She shook her head in pity and said, "Some people never learn from their mistakes."

The crowd hailed her for being courageous and honest to the rich stranger. She knew her mother was going to scold her for being foolish and disrespectful again. Biting her lower lips, Priyanka wore the beautiful jacket and ran towards a tricycle that was waiting for a passenger.

"Where to, madam?" The driver, a middle-aged man asked.

"Sarita's dancing house" she answered, quickly adjusting her hair in the side mirror. There, she noticed the jacket. It was expensive and beautiful. He must have spent a fortune to get it from one of those big stores. He gave it out like it was nothing. Rich men and their lavish lifestyle.

**

The power bike skipped to a halt in front of the houses at the entrance of the slums. There were a lot of kids playing at the roadside. Some of them were clamouring and shoving each other to make it to the other side of the road. Everything about this place was entirely different from where he came from.

But, who was he?"

He wasn't a male model but he should have been. The lush, black hair he groomed carefully had a ripping quality. A sign of his rude health. His skin wasn't blemished nor was his skin fair? His furrowed brows were neatly carved into an arc shape and they sometimes knitted in frustration.

The pointed nose he sported complemented his prominent cheekbones. Handsome and cute was an understatement, his broad and Spartan shoulders spoke of a mighty strength gotten from daily exercise. He possessed power, and wealth and always walked with pride and authority.

"Excuse me, little one," Karan called one of the kids who was standing close to the road. "I need your help, please."

The boy stared at him as if he was the god of doom. 'Not again, please,' Karan sighed. The dancer he met on his way here ruined his entire day. She cursed him for no good reason. Now, people were going to look at him as a badman.

The boy drew close to him yet he was mute.

"I am looking for the oldest temple in this vicinity," Karan said, looking in the direction of long streets.

"Mmh… showing you the road to that temple will cost you a fortune, sir," the boy answered with a smile. It revealed his dirty teeth that looked like he had never touched a brush on them.

"That shouldn't be a problem," he dipped his hand into the pocket of his trouser and brought Five hundred rupees, "Take this, will you show me the temple now? I'm in a hurry, please."

"Five hundred rupees?" The boy was not satisfied after seeing the money in his wallet. He swallowed his saliva and spoke slowly, "I can only show you the road that leads to the temple. This money is not enough, Mr rich boy."

Karan was surprised at his demand. Making a fool out of him was disgusting. If the boy needed money, he would have just asked him instead of doing it this way.

He removed another Five hundred notes and said, "Take this as a gift. Don't be a greedy boy."

The boy took the money and pointed to the next building behind a shop. "The oldest temple is over there."

Karan looked back and saw that he was at the right place. The boy only made a fool out of him. The other kids who were watching from the beginning laughed at his stupidity. There was even a signboard with the name of the temple on it.