The Tiffin by Mahtab Narsimhan Page B

the carrier to the ground, almost dropping it on Kunal’s foot. “Oops, sorry,” he said, and he flashed an apologetic smile. Kunal felt the boy’s eyes linger on his bruised face.
    â€œNo problem,” said Kunal. He liked the look of this boy instantly.There was something about him that reminded Kunal of someone he knew. But who?
    â€œI’ll try, Vinayakji,” said Nikhil. “I misjudged the time a bit today.Tomorrow will surely be better.”
    â€œIt has to be,” said Vinayak. “This means no talking with housewives even if they want you to stay and gossip. And if their tiffin is not ready, you don’t wait for more than a minute.That’ll teach them to be on time. But for your first attempt at doing the rounds on your own, you’ve done really well. Shabaash!”
    Many dabbawallas joined in, praising Nikhil and patting the young boy on the back. Kunal watched with a twinge of jealousy. He had to get on the team; he had to be one of them — just till he found his mother; after that he wouldn’t need them anymore.
    Kunal sidled up to Vinayak. “Can’t I do just one tiffin?” he asked. “I think it’s quite simple and I know so many of the codes already.”
    â€œNot now, Kunal.We’re busy and I do not have the time to supervise you. We’ll do this later, okay?” He strode between the carriers, his eyes scanning the tiffins.
    Kunal moved closer to Nikhil. The young dabbawalla was slow to recognize the codes. When he was staring at a tiffin for a particularly long time, Kunal whispered to him, “I think that’s for the Air India building. It goes into that carrier bound for Churchgate.”
    Nikhil glanced around quickly. No one seemed to have noticed Kunal was helping him.
    â€œThanks,” said Nikhil. “Sometimes these can get a little confusing.What happened to your face?”
    Kunal eyed him steadily for a moment. “I’ll tell you some other time. For now let’s just sort the tiffins, all right?”
    â€œOkay!”
    Together they finished distributing the tiffins from Nikhil’s carrier. Kunal was glad he’d helped; he’d learned so many more codes. He was ready to do this, if only they’d give him a chance.
    Nikhil raced over to help someone else. Kunal wandered over to some carriers standing a little further away from the main hub of all the activity.There was no one close by, which meant they had already been sorted and were ready to go. No one was looking his way, either. Kunal picked up a box. The code
12 A 48
was inscribed in the centre of the lid. He wracked his brain.Which building was that?
    The letters on it were blue, which meant this one would be picked up by the team delivering the blue-coded boxes. And what was that
E 14
at the side ? He was sure Vinayak had told him what it stood for, back at the dhaba. If only he could remember.
    â€œOi! Put that down!” someone yelled.
    Kunal started. The tiffin slid from his hands and crashed to the ground. A beefy dabbawalla strode up to Kunal, glared at him, bent down, and picked up the tiffin. He examined it cursorily and jammed it back into the carrier.
    â€œHow dare you touch these tiffins!” the dabbawalla said. “They’re private property. I could get you arrested.”
    The station suddenly became unbearably hot as Kunal backed away from the dabbawalla, who stood glowering at him. He was large and well-built with burned skin and beady, black eyes. Everyone had stopped working. They were all staring at him. Questions bombarded Kunal from all directions.
    â€œWho are you?”
    â€œWhere did you get that cap from?”
    â€œWhat are doing near the tiffins?”
    Kunal stood silently, staring at his feet.
    â€œHe’s with me, Dubey,” said Vinayak coming up to them. “Friends, this is Kunal. He’s staying with me for a while. He’s shown an interest in becoming a