Kanchan's Protector

"Just who are you, KK? You are certainly something more than an ordinary businessman."

"I am a businessman who knows how to take care of and protect his business. And right now, you are my business."

KK: I could not stop for death

"Oh my god, that man is from that bastard's staff," gasps Kanchan, pointing discreetly to a guy a little further away, in one of the several immigration queues.

"What is his name?"

"Sanjay Sawant."

"If he turns this way and looks at you, just smile and wave. He will wait for you on the other side, we can find out where he is going."

"He will ask me, where I am off to, then what?"

"Tell him we are going around Europe, starting with Paris. There is a Paris flight leaving about an hour after ours. Don't panic, trust me. And put your boarding pass and passport inside your handbag once you finish with your immigration formalities, so that he doesn't see them."

Sure enough, he is waiting on the other side. Kanchan introduces us. He asks her where we are going and she tells him we are taking the Paris flight. When he says he is going to Rome, she doesn't bat an eyelid. Well, she really can act.

"Let's get some coffee, why don't you join us," I invite him.

Once we are seated, I ask Kanchan to get us the coffee. He jumps up with alacrity to help her and walks up to the counter with her. I pull out my phone, walk out of the restaurant to a nearby corner and make a couple of discreet calls before they return.

When we are almost done with our coffee, I look at Kanchan. "Let him go now, sweetheart, they will be calling his flight soon, there is still time for ours."

He takes the hint, picks up his hand luggage, says a polite goodbye and leaves.

"Look at the mess you have got us into. And since when am I your sweetheart?"

"You are not my sweetheart, but by now the message would have gone to your lecherous director that you are. He must be seething."

"This is going to be terribly embarrassing when I bump into him in the aircraft."

"Hey you are a star, he is a lowly minion carrying out the orders of a piece of vermin. Bluff your way through."

"I don't understand you one bit."

"Of course you don't, you haven't known me for more than a few hours."

My phone tinkles, I read the short message and then stand up. "Come on, let us pass through security and await our boarding call in the lounge."

People are staring at us. After all, my 'sweetheart' is a star. Kanchan seems to be on tenterhooks, looking furtively around her every now and then. I take out my Kindle and start to read.

They call our flight, and as Business Class customers, we get to board first.

"I didn't see him in the departure lounge, nor did I see him entering the aircraft," she whispers as the plane begins to taxi.

"Yeah, I noticed, everyone boarded through the aerobridge, so he is not in this flight."

Then it dawns on her. "What the fuck did you do, KK?"

"That look on your face, absolutely priceless," I laugh.

The aircraft is now speeding down the runway, it is noisy inside. I pull her head close to me and whisper in her ear. "Wait till we are cruising."

As soon as the aircraft levels off, she shakes my arm. "Tell me, hurry."

"Well, he was stopped by airline security for some questioning. By now they would have apologised to him for detaining him based on unreliable information. The airline will offer him an upgrade to business class in their next flight. By the time he lands in Rome, we will be well ensconced in our apartment in Firenze."

"How did you do this?"

"Just called up a couple of friends when you were getting the coffee. They are good friends, they will do anything for me."

She links her left arm to my right, puts her head on my shoulder and goes off to sleep. The rest of the flight is uneventful, though we have some interesting conversations.

"Benvenuti in Italia, signora, signore," says the officer at the immigration counter in Rome.

"Grazie Signora."

"Sei qui per affari?"

"Lo sono, signora sta solo visitando come turista."

"Buon divertimento in Italia, signora, signore."

I smile at her, then take Kanchan's arm and lead her out to collect our baggage.

"You speak Italian?"

"Yes, I come here often."

We catch the shuttle from Leonardo da Vinci International terminal, Fiumicino to Roma Termini, and then the train to Firenze.

"What did the immigration officer ask you?"

"She welcomed us to Italy, then asked me if we are here on business. I told her that I am, but you are just visiting as a tourist. She wished us a fun time."

"She thought we are a couple?"

"I don't know, she just addressed us as 'sir,' and 'madam,' that is all."

"How long is this train ride."

"An hour and a half, are you tired, Kanchan?"

"A bit, but my mind is not calm, KK, it is filled with a sense of foreboding."

"Kanchan, please, trust me, you are safe with me. What else can I say? If you wish, and you feel safe on your own, I can check you into a hotel."

She grips my arm tightly. "I trust you, I don't want to be alone. But I fear for you. I can't explain this."

"Smile. Once we get home and after you have showered and rested a bit, I will treat you to the second-best Italian food in Italy."

"I don't want to go out."

"The food will come to you."

"Why second best, why not the best?"

"That too, but as they say, the best is yet to come."

A car is waiting for us at Santa Maria Novella station. Pietro, my batman in Florence loads our luggage.

"Sit in the front, Kanchan, I am driving."

With Pietro in the back seat, I carefully ease the car out. It always takes me some time to switch to the left-hand drive, After driving slowly for the first 5 minutes, as my brain adjusts itself to shifting gears with my right hand and driving on the right side of the road, I push the car to the speed limit. Soon we reach my apartment in the outskirts of the city.

I introduce Angela to Kanchan after the welcome hugs and kisses she lavishes on both of us.

"Angela, speaks English, she manages this apartment for me and her pasta recipes are out of this world," I say to Kanchan. "She will help you with your unpacking and will provide you with whatever assistance you need. I will show you around, you can pick any room you want, I will place your stuff there."

"This pasta is amazing, so is the soup," Kanchan exclaims. She turns around and gives Angela a hug. I think Angela just falls in love with her at that moment.

"Get some sleep, Kanchan. I will leave early in the morning and will be back around 3 PM. I need to travel a long distance and will take the car. You can go shopping or sightseeing with Angela or just laze around. Would you like parathas and daal for dinner?"

"Angela makes those?"

"No, but I know a cook who makes Indian stuff in Florence. I will have him around for the evening."

It is around 7 PM when Kanchan and Angela return. Kanchan is exuberant.

"The interior of the dome of the cathedral of Santa Maria del Flore is so beautiful, she gushes. And we saw the Palazzo Vecchio, the Town Hall, and the statue of David in the Piazza outside."

"Wow, Angela has been working on you, you are pronouncing those Italian words perfectly."

She blushes. I must confess, she looks even more beautiful when her cheeks turn red.

"That statue is a copy, the original is at the Accademia Gallery, would you like to see it?" I ask.

"When are you taking me?" She asks very softly, in a most flirtatious tone. The pun is not lost upon either of us.

"I am all yours tomorrow, I will take you around a couple of my favourite spots, and the last stop will be Michelangelo's 'David.' Then a day or two later, I will take you to Pisa," and I lean towards her like the leaning tower.

She pushes me to straighten me up. "I am famished, where is your Paratha Chef?"

"Do you want to watch him in action?" I move towards the kitchen.

"You making this?" she squeals.

"Yeah, improvised for Italy. We don't get cauliflower here so I am using Broccoli."

"I'll make them."

"Sorry, you are eating my Parathas, I am not eating yours. But you can stand next to me and tell me all that you saw and what all you liked about Florence till now."

"That's what she does, and what a chatterbox she turns out to be."

"I have some pickles that I have brought over last time. I am sure you will like them with your Parathas."

She eats well. "Your Parathas are lovely, I think the woman you marry will be very happy to have a husband like you, someone who can cook so well."

I smile. "Let's get some sleep, we are going to be on our feet the whole day tomorrow."

We are in a narrow courtyard between two majestic buildings, standing in a queue for our entry tickets.

"Kanchan, these are my favourites. I really don't know what your likes are, so if at any time you are bored with all this, let me know. We will try something else."

"Where have you brought me?"

"This is 'The Uffizi Gallery'. It was built by an artist and architect of the 16th century calls Giorgio Vasari. The work started around 1560 and took about 21 years to complete. This was originally built as offices for the Florentine magistrates, hence the name Uffizi, which means 'offices.'

But Vasari, is better known, as an art historian. He wrote this famous book titled, 'Life of the most famous painters, sculptors and architects,' and he was the first person to use the word 'Renaissance,' for this golden period of art and architecture. This was eventually expanded and converted into an art museum and opened to the public in 1865. There is a lot of expansion work still happening."

I took her first to the painting called 'The Birth of Venus.'

"This depicts Venus, after she is born, floating on a huge scallop. On the left you see this guy blowing. He is the wind god 'Zephyr' and in his arms is 'Aura', the goddess of breeze. She too is blowing at Venus, to speed her gently to the shore. On the right is one of the three goddesses of the seasons, known as the 'Horae.' Since she has a floral dress, she is supposed to be the 'Hora' depicting spring, and she holds this rich cloak in her hands, waiting to cover Venus' nude form as soon as she reaches the shore. You must study the details in the painting and the richness of the colours. The Painter is Sandro Boticelli, he lived in the 15th century and there are a few more of his paintings here, that I will show you.

She lingers long before this fine piece of art, asking very intelligent questions. One thing is certain, she isn't a bimbo, she has brains as much as she has the power to emote on the screen.

"This place is full of so many beautiful works, you will need a year at least to view and appreciate all of them," she exclaims.

"Not a year, even a lifetime will be too short. That is why I said I will show you my favourites."

Then I guide her to another room. "This is called the 'Doni Madonna' after the nobleman who commissioned this painting. It is the only complete panel of Michelangelo that is known to survive. Panels are flat wooden pieces on which artists painted before canvas became popular."

"This is a Michelangelo?" It is so beautiful, I have never heard of this."

"Michelangelo's first love was sculpting, though he is famous for painting the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel in the Vatican. The reason why I like this is that this is a rather unusual depiction. You see Mary, sitting on the grass, without a cushion underneath her, highlighting her relationship to the earth.

That is Joseph, he is shown at a higher level than Mary, which is very rare. The way Mary is depicted sitting between his legs symbolises a throne. Between them, they are holding the infant Jesus, and they are separated from the rest of the crowd in the background by a low wall. It is just the holy family, enjoying a day in the park. The little boy you see on the right, looking adoringly at the Infant Jesus, is John the Baptist. He is, in some Gospels, the son of Mary's cousin, Elizabeth. Incidentally, St John the Baptist is the patron saint of Florence, so most Florentine works of art depict him in some form or the other."

"The gloss on their garments is so amazing, and I like the hairstyle that Mary sports," she observes. Well, she does have an eye for appreciating art.

We spend the entire morning and a better part of the afternoon at The Uffizi, and I shows her the other paintings of Botticelli and the Titian masterpiece, 'Venus of Urbino.' It shows the goddess in an indoor setting and the painting is so sensually explicit, that it has everyone in raptures.

As always, I came out emotionally drained, and I can see that art has a similar effect on her. We sit down at one of the roadside cafes for Pizza and tea, to fortify us for the next experience.

"You are so passionate about art, yet there is not a single painting in your office. Why, KK?"

I smile. "There are just two reasons. First, the ones I love, I cannot afford to buy and second, I believe that art should not be locked up in private collections, but must be available to scholars and the public at large."

"I think I am beginning to understand you a bit, KK."

"Come on, Kanchan," I say, taking her arm, it is a ten-minute walk to the Accademia, but we will walk slowly and take a lot more time, I want you to assimilate the sights, smells and the spirit of Florence this afternoon."

She smiles brightly, but I am not being completely honest. The truth is that I want to hold her hand for as long as possible.

"Meet David," I say.

She looks up at the 5-metre tall marble sculpture.

"Oh my god, it is so big." She remarks innocently. "What would have happened if Michelangelo had decided to carve Goliath instead?"

I chuckle, as do a few other tourists standing around who hear her.

"You know, Michelangelo was only 26 when he received the commission to sculpt this, and Leonardo da Vinci who at that time was in his fifties was also competing for the contract. It took him more than two years to complete this statue. The statue was originally supposed to occupy a place on the roof of Florence Cathedral but was too heavy to be hoisted there. So they placed it on the square outside the town hall, where now stands the replica that you saw. A few years ago, a fibreglass replica was placed on the cathedral roof.

There are two interpretations of what Michelangelo is actually depicting here. One is that David is getting ready to battle Goliath, his muscles around the neck and shoulders are tensed up as he holds his sling. The other interpretation is that he has just killed Goliath and is looking with concern at the Philistine army, as to whether they will honour their word of surrendering to the Israelites if Goliath is defeated."

"There is a scholar in you, KK, you are not just a businessman as you make yourself out to be."

"No, sweetheart, I believe that to appreciate a piece of art, you must know what could have gone on in the mind of the artist, and every story behind it."

I wait for that rebuke, 'since when am I your sweetheart?' But it doesn't come.

"Hey take a careful look at the statue, and tell me if you can find something that is historically and culturally wrong while being artistically okay.

She looks for quite a while and then shrugs.

"You know, David was a Jew, right?"

She nods.

"Yet his penis here is shown uncircumcised."

She shakes her head in disbelief. "Oh my god, KK, where all does your mind wander? How naughty can you get?"

She stops next to the original plaster model of Giambologna's 'Rape of the Sabine Women,' and I see her frown. It is a beautiful and artistic sculpture, but I never liked that theme. I put my arm around her and lead her away.

"I am not that sensitive or fragile, KK," she whispers.

"I know, but I don't like women being portrayed like this."

"Yes, I knew this the day I met you, you are very protective, my friend," and her arm goes around my waist. It remains there till we get back to my car.

We drive down to the town of Pisa the next day.

"KK, it really leans, she exclaims. I can feel her enthusiasm and she is really thrilled at what she sees when we enter the Pisa Cathedral complex."

"Come on, I will race you to the top," I shout and run. We have to slow down at the entrance where they examine our tickets, and then we race up again. Both of us are panting by the time we cover the 297 steps to the bell tower, laughing our heads off.

"Kanchan, that is amazing, you are fitter than I"

"Didn't I tell you I am neither fragile nor delicate?"

She peers out over the edge. "So this is where Galileo performed his great experiment of dropping two iron balls of different weights, disproving Aristotle who said heavier objects fall faster?"

"So it is believed, except that it is just his thought experiment and there is no evidence that he actually did this. He lived here for a while and was a professor at the University of Pisa."

"Oh, this is so unromantic, you burst my science bubble." She pretends to cry, rubbing imaginary tears with the back of her palms. I take out my handkerchief and wipe her cheeks, forcing her to laugh.

We are in the Tuscany region of Italy. It is the land of the Renaissance, history, culture, artistic legacies and Pinocchio. We stop at the souvenir shops outside the complex and she buys a whole lot of small wooden Pinocchio marionettes, with their long noses. They each have a string, which when you tug, makes them move their arms and legs.

"These I will give to all those who lie to me." She grins.

"And what will you give all those who lie with you?" I wink.

She grabs and twists my ear playfully. "You rotten creep, only one guy will get to lie with me and he will be so special and he will get something very special."

"Yeah? What will you give him?"

"A baby, maybe two, how come you couldn't figure that out, you dodo?"

"Actually you have a dirty mind, Kanchan, all I meant was, what will you give people who utter the same lies that you do."

"You rotten equivocator," she squeals, as she punches me on my chest playfully. I hug her tight to me to make her stop.

"You are so much fun, KK, I am so glad I came with you."

"You haven't come with me yet, Kanchan," I say to myself.

We drive back leisurely with our windows rolled down, letting the breeze hit our faces. Kanchan's hair is flying in the wind as she jabbers away, cracking a lot of Bollywood jokes. We decide to stop at this drive-in restaurant on our way and pick up some burgers.

There is a car ahead of us, and as we wait, a lean guy walks towards me. He is smiling and I assume he is one of the restaurant staff. He steps up to my window, and suddenly I am looking into the barrel of a gun. It moves rapidly towards me and as it gets closer to my forehead it goes out of focus, but I can still see his eyes. In that short instant, I make out that it is a Glock 22.

"Arrivederci Signore," he says with a leer.

Kanchan screams.

Kanchan: Sound-and-light show

It happened so fast, yet I remember the sequence of events as if I was watching a slow-motion action replay on TV. KK's right hand moves in a blur, gripping the assassin's wrist and pushing the hand away from his face. Simultaneously, his left hand opens the car door with a hard jerk. The man has brought his gun too close to KK, his arm is mostly inside the car. The force of KK's thwarting action causes the killer's elbow to hit the edge of the window and a lever-action makes the window's edge the fulcrum.

I hear a loud crack and I scream again, it feels like the gun has gone off. But the gun sails out of the man's hand hits the inside of the windscreen, bounces off the dashboard before falling in the gap between our seats, amid the gear shift and the hand-brake. KK releases the hit-man's hand which is bent outward at an awkward angle. I know it is broken badly as I hear another scream that is definitely not mine. The thrust of the door sends him sprawling a few feet away from the car.