‘Bang, Bang, Bang’ – that was the gate again, someone was knocking, or rather banging. Rajesh got up irritated not happy about being disturbed from his morning coffee and newspaper routine. He opened the door and peered outside. ‘Thenga vettano’ – do you want to cut the coconuts, a voice sounded. There he stood, the coconut cutter, his head raising above the gate, torso shirtless, his dark skin absorbing the early morning sun giving it a sheen, with a thick rope strung over his right shoulder. He gave a piercing, unsmiling look as he casually put his hand over the gate. Rajesh’s irritation grew more. How can these people speak so arrogantly he thought. Aren’t we the people giving them work, can’t they atleast give some respect?

Rajesh held out his palm and gave a single nod to indicate ‘wait’ and walked back into the house.

‘Kamala…’ he called out.

‘What?’ his wife yelled back, the tone clearly indicating she knew what was about to come and wanting no part of it.

‘The coconut cutter has come, should we cut the coconut, can you talk to him?’ Rajesh persisted for what it was worth, though he knew the answer.

‘Yes, this is long overdue, he has not come for a while, and no’ came the curt answer, tone indicating clearly that the conversation was over.

Rajesh walked back to the front door trying to adopt a stern face. He looked at the cutter and gave a curt nod, face upwards, to indicate go ahead. 

The cutter opened the gate and came in. Rajesh could see his blood shot eyes, his face expressionless. I can almost smell the toddy he must have drunk on the way, he thought disgustedly. Why do these people drink in the morning. The cutter casually flicked the bidi he was smoking to the ground, wrapped a towel around his head and looked up at the tree, narrowing his eyes to see through the bright sun. ‘Lot of coconuts’ he remarked. To Rajesh it sounded like a warning message. Will he ask for more money this time? Let me try giving him the usual he decided.

The cutter tied a short loop around his legs and climbed up the tree rapidly. ‘Chop,chop,chop’, in three swift swings, he cut loose a big bunch of coconuts. Down it came in a big thud scattering into different places, some banging into the gate, some getting dangerously close to the parked car. Rajesh became irritated again. Should I ask him to be more careful and make sure the coconuts fall on the empty space around the tree, he thought. What if he becomes angry? Last time he seemed quite drunk and was dropping coconuts all over the place. These guys think people like us who live in concrete houses are weaklings, Rajesh subconsciously started gnashing his teeth. But I cannot let him do as he wants in my house, let me warn him, he thought. Summoning all his courage, he looked up shielding his eyes with his hands. ‘Be careful’ he yelled, or rather that was his intention. But it sounded more like a squeak to him. 

‘Thud’, the next bunch came down, nearer the tree this time, but not near enough. Some of the coconuts broke from the branch and scattered around, hitting the gate. Rajesh gnashed his teeth even more. The cutter climbed down. He started picking the scattered coconuts, throwing them together in a small heap. ‘Lot of coconuts this time, I couldn’t come last time, so we have more coconuts now’ he remarked.

Rajesh looked at him. Why is he talking now, he wondered. This is definitely to get more money, let me be stern, Rajesh thought. He just nodded, not wanting to encourage more conversation. The cutter looked at Rajesh again ‘I couldn’t come last time’, he paused almost as if he wanted Rajesh to ask why. Rajesh stared back at him not responding, he definitely wants more money, he thought. ‘My twin brother passed away. He got a heart attack and died suddenly. We were together for the last 40 years’ the cutter went on.

Rajesh kept on giving what he thought was a stern look. I am not giving him one rupee more, he thought. The cutter paused and looked at Rajesh. There was a brief moment when their eyes met. The eyes which seemed blood shot earlier now seemed a bit hollowed out. Rajesh held out his hand with the money, no point in asking how much, he thought. The cutter took the money, unwrapped the towel strung around his head, gave it a good shake and put it over his shoulder. He gave Rajesh one more look and walked away.

Rajesh stood outside the gate watching the cutter go. He couldn't forget the way the cutter looked at him. Was it grief, was it disgust, or was it just plain world weariness, Rajesh couldn't make out. As he closed the gate, Rajesh wanted to feel happy that he didn't give any more money than he wanted to. But he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that he held back more than money in the transaction.