‘Oh, fuck, I have to extricate myself from this,’ I thought.“Listen, boet, (bro in Afrikaans), is jy honger?” (Are you hungry?) I rhetorically...inquired.“Fok, ja, baie,” (Fuck, yes, very), he answered.“Kom saam met my,” (accompany me), I replied.As we sat on the terrace, I ordered a large glass of draft for him. When it arrived, his eyes lit up. Although we predominantly spoke Afrikaans, for the convenience of the readers, I shall desist from laborious translation.“What would you like to eat?" I. Then I went behind ,no one was around , I removed by clothes and was in my blue inner wear, started bathing .I was soaping myself, I was about to finish bath ,heard the screaming of my owner .I saw her watching me from her balcony ,I immediately wrapped myself with towel and ran into home .I expected her to come down and scream at me but it did not happen .I was like totally surprised ,that evening I was back home I show her and bent down .Then there were two incidents we exchanged smiles .This. 2, medium built around 55 kgs, but I saw she had huge breasts which she had covered under her saree pallu.I felt ashamed of myself thinking about her body. I moved closer to the window to sleep and at the same time driver switched off the lights as we were already on the highway. Mamatha too sat properly resting back against the seat.While she did that, her thighs grazed mine and I could feel her body heat and her feminine body smell. My left hand was on my thigh and my elbow was touching her. Surely I had spared no effort in pursuing my career goals. There was no correlation there. And I was not interested in pursuing any personal relationships that might expose me to the fear of rejection. I wondered if an epiphany was hidden there, some special relationship to my research… perhaps regarding host rejection… And then Miranda walked in the door. And she was so simply beautiful. She smiled at me as she kicked off her shoes and said, ‘I have to use the bathroom.’ I watched her hips.