The House

Professor Kumara Sarma stopped his narration calling for the bill. Sri Latha was disappointed and made a puppy dog face that brought a chuckle from the usually serious looking professor.

“Uncle, please continue the story! Please, please, please!”

“Don’t worry. I will tell you the rest of the story in my house. Come, let’s go.” He rose prompting her to rise from her seat. He led her out of the luxury restaurant to his ancient looking antique Rolls Royce car.

“It looks unusual uncle. Is this really a car?”

“Yes my dear daughter. It’s Rolls Royce Phantom III 1938 model!” he said with pride in his voice. “I bought it in a vintage car sale when I was 21 with my first salary.”

“Wow! That’s great uncle! Buying a vintage car at the age of 21! It’s unbelievable.” She looked at the car closely going round it. “Does it work? Is it safe?”

“It’s the safest car in the empire! Don’t go by the looks.” He opened the door and went around to sit behind the wheel. “Come on get in.” He invited. Sri Latha was a bit hesitant to get into such a cart that had been manufactured more than 60 centuries ago. She gingerly entered the car and closed the door praying that she and the professor would not be blown up.

The professor revved up the engine idling it for a few minutes before changing the gear and stepping on the pedal. The car moved forward smoothly without any glitches. Throughout the 30 minute ride to the professor’s house she kept praying that the car did not break down and leave them stranded. She had thought of suggesting a cab but had kept quiet not wanting to offend him.

The journey had been uneventful and all her fears had been unnecessary. The professor patted the car lovingly as he led her into the house while the valet parked the car in the garage.

The word house was a heavy understatement of the huge palatial building. It sat like a titan towering over the others deep in thought. The house was built in the form of a Dhyana Buddha – Meditating Buddha. The entrance gate was at the left foot while the exit gate was at the right foot. The garage was in the waist towards the right while the main door set in the belly opened into a huge hall. Towards the right was the door to the garage while the left door opened into a private garden. The dual staircase went up spiralling into the several rooms in the upper floors where the residents were housed. The first five floors had been allotted to the servants while the floors six through 10 had been reserved for friends and family of the host. The seventh floor was the exclusive domain of the owner.

“Take some rest. You may take a tour of the house if you want. I will meet you in the evening.” She was disappointed but did not protest. After all, the professor was a very busy man and had great demands on his time.

“Not like that!” he said guessing her thoughts. “I just feel too sleepy!” A lady servant had come into the room. “Yes. Sarala, this is my sister’s daughter Sri Latha. She is my only living relative that I wish to call my own. Make sure she has everything she needs. And send for her luggage.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Uncle, ....”

“No. Don’t say anything. I couldn’t take you in earlier as you were still studying. Since you have graduated I can simply induct you in one of my research organisations and it doesn’t matter where you live. Besides this is the safest place for you to be right now.”

“Why uncle, am I in danger?” he simply smiled at her question placing his hand on her head in blessing. “You will never be in danger while I am alive.” He left the room leaving her confused.

He was always like that – speaking in riddles. But it always turned out that those riddles had a deeper meaning and were beneficial to her. So, she had learnt not to question him whenever he left her shrouded in mystery. But, it was frustrating and there was nothing she could do about it.

“Do you need anything ma’am?” the lady named Sarala spoke. Sri Latha looked at the 50 year old woman who was gracefully dressed in a saree and looked as dignified as a queen. Mom was like this! She thought sadly as she recalled her time spent with her mother. Her mother always wore sarees draped with such grace that anyone who happened to pass by would automatically fold their hands in respectful greeting. She had always felt great pride in her mother and had always wanted to be like her – majestic, graceful, commanding respect from one and all through her impeccable demeanour.

“No. I will rest for a while.”

“Yes. Ma’am. You can ring the bell if you need anything.”

“Sure.”

Sarala left the room leaving Sri Latha alone. She looked around the huge room that could easily fit at least 50 people. The word ‘bed’ was too small to use for the king size bed that was almost as big as a boxing rink. The closet occupied half the room and contained so many outfits that she could simply discard her current wardrobe and not feel a pinch. She was still unsure if she would be allowed to use these gorgeous dresses that seemed to call to her begging her to try them.

She tore her gaze from the closet with great difficulty, removed her shoes and went in to the attached bathroom to wash her hands and feet. The bathroom was huge and had been divided by a door in the middle. She opened the door to find two toilets – one Indian and the other western style. Arrangements had been made taking into consideration the cultural habits of guests which usually reflected the type of climate and regions they lived in.

Sri Latha closed the door and looked around the other part of the bathroom. This part had a wash basin in the left corner. In the middle was a shower node and three taps. She turned each one to see what they did. The first gave out hot water while the second one gushed cold liquid. The third had been linked to the shower above. The temperature of the water that fell from the shower depended on what tap you used in combination.

“Trust the professor to make everything complex and also over board.” She chuckled. There was a biodegradable stool under the shower which could be used by the female guests. “Perfect! Just as it was at home when dad was alive.” Memories flooded her as she sat on the stool and went back to her childhood.

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