My Bai, My Bae


My Bai, My Bae

Illustration: Akshita Monga/Arré


t first, I thought nothing when I didn’t find Lalita at her usual spot at the stairwell. For the last many years, I’ve returned from my morning jog at 7 am to greet her before we enter the house together. While I get busy nosing through the newspapers, Lalita begins her daily ministrations of my home and hearth.

But today there was no sign of her. With a slight dread, I showered, got dressed, and started preparing breakfast. There was still no sign of her. Finally, as I left home I ran into our watchman Ganesh who told me, “Bai no come. Gone village. Girl have baby.” (For some reason Ganesh and all other watchmen insist on speaking only in English with me.)