Three Bargains: A Novel Read Online Free PDF Page A

of other lives we may have lived. People we may have known, who we may have battled with or cheated or . . . loved. Who will call on us in this life, with familiarity?”
    Madan and Pandit Bansi Lal exchanged an involuntary glance, both perplexed by Avtaar Singh’s stream of thought.
    “For once I think you may have said something of use to me, Pandit-ji.” Avtaar Singh was animated again, a grin spreading across his face. “You know me. When I come to a decision, when some idea gets ahold of me, I find it hard to shake. So, what do you think?”
    “About what? This servant boy?” Pandit Bansi Lal said, unable to keep the surprise from his voice.
    “Who is servant and who is master? Who decided this, Pandit-ji? Your God? When you said you needed a new temple, that God would be pleased with one that rivaled Lakshmi Narayan Temple, I spent lakhs to build it. You took payment for each prayer I sent to him. I paid thousands and thousands for pujas and havans. I needed one thing, and for that I gave plenty, whatever you asked. Why, Pandit-ji, it’s like you’re my banker for God. So tell me, why does he not give me a good return on my investment?”
    “You’re in a mood today, Avtaar Singh. God has been kind to you, count your blessings. You have two beautiful daughters and Gorapur would be a village of dung houses if not for you. And look at Minnu-ji. I just saw her yesterday, so pious, and beautiful with her new haircut.”
    “Yes, yes.” Avtaar Singh became pensive again. “That fucking Princess Diana haircut.”
    “Boys like these are as plentiful as seeds in a pomegranate, Avtaar Singh. You want a charity case, I will bring you a deserving one. This boy is nothing.” To Madan, Pandit Bansi Lal’s shrill, rising tone sounded like Swati’s when she whined about something.
    “I give you enough money as it is,” Avtaar Singh said. “I do not need you to bring out some poor soul as another avenue to milk me.”
    “Avtaar Singh, what are you saying? I’ve only done what you wanted me to do. This boy”—he grimaced—“is as good as any other.” Pandit Bansi Lal glared at Madan like he was a fly buzzing too close to his daal.
    “Of course, you know best,” Pandit Bansi Lal added. Madan felt a cold, bony hand encircle his upper arm and shake it. He looked up into the priest’s eyes, which were now directing God’s fury at him.
    “Go and touch saab’s feet, boy. You’re lucky such a great man noticed you.”
    How long until his father returned? All these words shooting overhead confused him. And on top of that, this pandit was angry. If Ma heard he had upset a man of God he would get a red backside, and he hadn’t even done anything.
    “Go and touch saab’s feet,” Pandit Bansi Lal repeated, pulling Madan off the floor and smiling at Avtaar Singh, his grip on Madan’s arm getting more and more painful. He shoved Madan toward the desk, but before Madan could bend down, Avtaar Singh stopped him. He pulled up a chair. “Sit here,” he said.
    Madan tentatively placed his bottom on the seat.
    “Be comfortable,” encouraged Avtaar Singh. “Do you like pinnis?”
    Avtaar Singh reached across the desk to an uncovered rectangular box and offered one to Madan. Lying in the waxy paper lining were two rows of the roundest, fattest pinnis he had ever seen, tawny brown, sugar glistening on their surface and almonds peeking out like nuggets of gold.
    Madan nodded, though he could not recall if he’d ever had one. Avtaar Singh shook the box again in an impatient offering, but before Madan could reach for one, the door swung open and his father entered, dragging another man in with him.
    Seeing his father’s stupefied stare when he saw Madan sitting next to Avtaar Singh, on a chair, no less, he tried to smile to show that it was not his idea.
    The blubbering of the man hauled into the room by the collar of his shirt broke the momentary silence and diverted both their attentions.
    Avtaar Singh leaned back in