How I lowered my Blood Pressure Without Drugs

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How I lowered my Blood Pressure Without Drugs

‘So what do you want from me?’ I said. ‘I want you to read these journals, whatever is readable...because I can’t.’ I looked at him, surprised. ‘You can’t read? As in, you can’t read in general? Or you can’t read these? ‘These.’ ‘Why not?’ I said, reaching for a chocolate myself. ‘Because Riya’s dead.’ My hand froze in mid-air.You cannot pick up a chocolate when someone has just mentioned a death. ‘Did you just say the girl who wrote these journals is dead?’ He nodded. I took a few deep breaths and wondered what to say next. ‘Why are they in such terrible shape?’ I said after a pause. ‘They are old. Her ex-landlord found them after years.’ ‘Sorry, Mr Whats-your-name. Can I order some food first?’ I picked up the phone in the room and ordered two club sandwiches from the limited midnight menu. 'I'm Madhav. Madhav Jha. I live in Dumraon, eighty kilometres from here.’ ‘What do you do?’ ‘I run a school there,’ ‘Oh, that’s...’ I paused, searching for the right word. '...noble? Not really. It’s my mother’s school.’ ‘I was going to say that’s unusual.You speak English. Not typical of someone who runs a school in the back of beyond.’ ‘My English is still bad. I have a Bihari accent,’ he said, without a trace of self-consciousness, 'French people have a French accent when they speak English,' 'My English wasn’t even English until..,' he trailed off and fell silent. I saw him swallow to keep his composure. ‘Until?’ He absently stroked the notebooks on the desk. ‘Nothing. Actually, I went to St. Stephen’s.’ ‘In Delhi?’ ‘Yes. English types call it “Steven’s”.’ I smiled. ‘And you are not one of the English types?’ ‘Not at all.’ The doorbell startled us.The waiter shifted the journals to put the sandwich tray on the table. A few sheets fell to the floor. ‘Careful!’ Madhav shouted, as if the waiter had broken some