Aniruddha tapped his black loafers on the Italian marble floor of the entrance as he eyed his watch. It was almost half past five. He checked himself in the full-size mirror beside the coat hanger, looking fresh as he shaved and bathed, set his hair, chose a white summer blazer over his black shirt and trousers and abandoned the idea of a tie. He cleaned his glasses with the handkerchief, contemplating whether he should knock at Asha’s door, telling Bondita to hurry. He wondered what the women were doing there for such a long time. He could hear them giggling and gossiping as he walked past the room. He wondered what huge deal a party was that a woman needed another to help her dress up. He took out his phone and wondered if he should call her downstairs instead to avoid the awkwardness of knocking on the door. It was then that Aniruddha heard footsteps on the stairs and looked up in a reflex. He would give her a piece of his mind for wasting precious moments, especially when they...