“Because they won’t.”
“For a man who is obsessed with control, you seem to let go pretty easily for this.”
“Who says I am obsessed with control?”
She glanced away.
“Are you trying to figure me out, Doctor?” His amused words were closer. Ritu looked him in the eye — “I have you already figured out,” she pointed to his chest. “Every last plumbing line. You yourself submitted the maps.”
His face split into a smile.
“Want to see more of the maps?”
She frowned, pulling back from how close their faces had come. He tapped the side of his head with his index finger.
“What about the shoot?”
“I told you, they will wrap it up. I will watch rushes this evening.”
Ritu pursed her lips.
“So, Doctor?”
“Since there are no PVRs here…”
He grinned, and waved to his assistant. Ritu glanced around one last time. Yasmin was looking at them with giddy glee.
————————————————————
“And here you see all these houses?” He pointed to the heritage homes that were built side by side, looking like one long line, with similar balconies, yellow wrought-iron grills, swings in the porch, and bikes parked at the gates.
“Hmm?” Ritu walked beside him, a detester of histories, museums, artefacts; and yet listening to him talk about this village like it was an open museum.
“They will soon start changing colours.”
“Huh?”
“Close your eyes.”
“What?”
He came and stood in front of her, stopping her midway and blocking her sight.
“Close your eyes, Doctor.”
“You will do something obnoxious.”
He held up his hands, then made a show of tying them behind his back.
“Your tongue is enough.”
“Is it?” His eyebrow cocked.
She rolled her eyes and shut them. Immediately, his arm wrapped around her shoulder and he guided her forward. They walked for a while.
“If this is some trick or prank, I will…”
“Open!”
