It was the last days of my cooperative education placement, conveniently next door to our school. She was in the grad lounge with her son. Her hair wa... brown now as were her eyes. Kaysan, her son had the golden hair and bright blue eyes of his mother. Marissa would not speak to me. I knew why: when we were in love I promised she would never be depressed again. But when she was I was unavailable to her. And so she was easily seduced. I left that day in a medley of emotions, skipping my afternoon. ’I asked Sanjeev if he knew where Corbinn kept this mistress. He grinned broadly. “Most of the sahibs keep their mistresses at houses in the same street, Ayiraṁ mas’hēāḷukaḷuṭe teruv. I know Corbinn sahib does as I’ve heard him tell the gharry driver where to take him in the afternoon.”“The English translation of ‘Ayiraṁ mas’hēāḷukaḷuṭe teruv’ is ‘The Street of a Thousand Mouse Holes’. That is where the sahibs keep their vaśatt biṟṟukaḷ. It is an open secret to us natives,” Rangesh said.I did. More

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