Monty's Golden Girl

London, April 2019

Looking out at the gray sky, and sipping her second cup of tea, Pari thought what she could do with her day. Cleaning up the studio would be a good idea. She really loved this flat. It reminded her of the mezzanine that she used to share with Shona. Of course there was no comparison, but the small cosy nook, the feeling that it was her private space, brought the nostalgia.

Shona's news had really lifted her mood. Pirouetting in front of the mirror, she struck seductive poses. 'Not bad,' she mused. She was in shape, not the angular sharp kind. Rather a voluptuous, sensual kind.

There was always a steady stream of young and beautiful girls, eager to make quick and good money. Students, expats, people like her...the choice was getting better. Bangladesh, Nepal, Myanmar, Philippines, they came to London with a dream. Varied in colour, in looks, in attitude. It was with sheer determination that she had held her own, amid this competition.

She looked around her tiny kingdom; it reflected her personality. Slowly over the last one year, she had added colour to the room. Some foliage to bring in the green, a few sticks of Tulip or Gerbera to add a dash of orange and pink, hand crafted items picked up from Greenwich Market, an old hand-stitched shawl, now, folded over a low table...oh yes the room was a riot of colours. The first time a few of the girls jammed in after work, they thought they had walked into a palm reader's shop.

Monty texted around 12pm. Call time had been brought forward to 6pm. Of course yesterday's work had to be re-shot. Usually they had an eight hour schedule, but no one complained if it extended, as overtime paid well.

Pari ate fruits and curd for lunch and decided to catch some sleep before getting ready. She had enjoyed her morning. Pottering around the house, cleaning and making minor alterations, watering the green shoots and cooking a light chicken stew for dinner. Admiring the arrangement of the coloured beads, on the mirror, she smiled happily.

Wembley Park to North Greenwich took about 40 mins. Usually the trains were not too crowded in this direction, in the evening. As she came out, a light drizzle hit her. Pari pulled her jacket collar and buttoned up. She hurried, to fast pace the short walk. She climbed the short flight of stairs to the 1st floor flat. Monty had bought it out two years back. The landlord, to whom Monty had been a tenant for a long time, was moving away to be with his daughter in Greece. The London weather was not doing any good to his arthritic joints. Monty managed to get a good deal without much effort. It was a small two-bedroom space with a small study that doubled up as Monty's living quarters. The reasonably big living room served well as the warming-up space, needed for some of the story lines that did not start action from the word 'go.'

Pari rang the bell and started opening her jacket. Monty opened the door and grinned as he saw Pari. "Hey there, my lovely," he said, planting a kiss on her cheek, from a polite distance. "You look particularly edible this evening, and I feel a growing appetite," Monty said.

He had a way with the girls. He loved making them feel desirable and they loved that. He 'talks corny to make them horny,' Robin joked. No girl till date could complain that he had made advances on them or taken liberties, just because he employed them. He helped Pari with her jacket and feeling her moist hair, said, "you better dry that up." Robin was already there and so was Jackie. "I have put the kettle on, so get ready, while I have the tea on the table," Monty said to no one in particular, as he went towards the kitchen.

"Hey Pari," Jackie said giving her a hug. "All sorted at home, I hope?" this with some concern. Pari nodded and smiled. Robin was tinkering with his camera and other equipment and raised his hand in a folded greeting. He always greeted Pari with a 'namasstee.' Pari went to one of the bedrooms and closed the door. She wanted to get ready and then check on the script, while having tea. She liked getting some cues from both Monty and Robin. It always helped to get things flowing.

She looked forward to a productive evening.

Dhaka, September 2014

Khalu pampered her no end. She got Pari two jackets – one beige and one black. She made all her favourite food. Gave lot of practical advice – what, when and how, of things important to a Hindu Bengali household. "NaJigayiya puja ghore dhukbi na," khalu had warned her about not entering the Puja room, without permission. "Mashik er shomoy, pak ghore na jigayiya dhukbi na," it went on. "No khalu, I will not enter the kitchen during my monthly cycles," she assured her.

The days in Dhaka passed quickly. They made numerous trips to the New Market to pick up scarves, a few skirts and trousers. Abbu showed his displeasure, but khalu insisted. "Don't make faces. She will need them," khalu could scold abbu. They also got a new bigger suitcase. The bag she had carried from home would be her cabin bag, khalu explained, packing several plastic jars of pickles, mustard sauce, and some dry munches in the big bag. She also packed a brass candle stand for the Banerjee household, as a gift.