Tales From Firozsha Baag by Rohinton Mistry

knew he would be on third floor also, and I was right. But I was not scared or anything.
    I reached the third floor entrance and found my bedding which I had put outside before leaving. After midnight mass I always sleepoutside, by the stairs, because
bat
and
seth
must not be woken up at two A.M ., and they never give me a key. No ayah gets key to a flat. It is something I have learned, like I learned forty-nine years ago that life as ayah means living close to floor. All work I do, I do on floors, like grinding
masala
, cutting vegetables, cleaning rice. Food also is eaten sitting on floor, after serving them at dining-table. And my bedding is rolled out at night in kitchen-passage, on floor. No cot for me. Nowadays, my weight is much more than it used to be, and is getting very difficult to get up from floor. But I am managing.
    So Christmas morning at two o’clock I opened my bedding and spread out my
saterunjee
by the stairs. Then stopped. The
bhoot
had vanished, and I was not scared or anything. But my father used to say some ghosts play mischief. The ghost of our field never did, he only took water from our well, but if this ghost of the stairs played mischief he might roll me downstairs, who was to say. So I thought about it and rang the doorbell.
    After many, many rings
bai
opened, looking very mean. Mostly she looks okay, and when she dresses in nice sari for a wedding or something, and puts on all bangles and necklace, she looks really pretty, I must say. But now she looked so mean. Like she was going to bite somebody. Same kind of look she has every morning when she has just woken up, but this was much worse and meaner because it was so early in the morning. She was very angry, said I was going crazy, there was no ghost or anything, I was just telling lies not to sleep outside.
    Then
seth
also woke up. He started laughing, saying he did not want any ghost to roll me downstairs because who would make
chai
in the morning. He was not angry, his mood was good. They went back to their room, and I knew why he was feeling happy when crrr-crr crrr-crr sound of their bed started coming in the dark.
    When he was little I sang Konkani songs for him.
Mogacha Mary
and
Hanv Saiba
. Big man now, he’s forgotten them and so have I. Forgetting my name, my language, my songs. But complaining I’m not, don’t make mistake. I’m telling you, to have a job I was very lucky because in Goa there was nothing to do. From Panjim to Bombay on the bus I cried, leaving behind my brothers and sisters and parents, and all my village friends. But I knew leaving was best thing. My father hadeleven children and very small field. Coming to Bombay was only thing to do. Even schooling I got first year, at night. Then
bai
said I must stop because who would serve dinner when
seth
came home from work, and who would carry away dirty dishes? But that was not the real reason. She thought I stole her eggs. There were six eggs yesterday evening, she would say, only five this morning, what happened to one? She used to think I took it with me to school to give to someone.
    I was saying, it was very lucky for me to become ayah in Parsi house, and never will I forget that. Especially because Im Goan Catholic and very dark skin colour. Parsis prefer Manglorean Catholics, they have light skin colour. For themselves also Parsis like light skin, and when Parsi baby is born that is the first and most important thing. If it is fair they say, O how nice light skin just like parents. But if it is dark skin they say,
arré
what is this
ayah no chhokro
, ayah’s child.
    All this doing was more in olden days, mostly among very rich
bais
and
seths
. They thought they were like British only, ruling India side by side. But don’t make mistake, not just rich Parsis. Even all Marathi people in low class Tar Gully made fun of me when I went to buy grocery from
bunya
. Blackie, blackie, they would call out. Nowadays it does not happen because very dark skin colour is common