Chapter Twelve
The Taj Mahal
A great pakora doesn’t always require a dip.
A couple of weeks later, I walked into the co-op. Tenzam had grown accustomed to me and saw me as someone who could do more than just answer the phone. I could also pick things up from the co-op, put electricity onto his card, and even go to the post office for him with large parcels to Bangladesh which seemed to cost next to nothing to send. And, no matter how much I explained that this was not my job, he would smile his sweet smile and I would give in.
Most people gave in with Tenzam.
Tenzam looked younger than his forty-plus years and spoke English in a literal fashion which made him sound sincere and innocent. He had a round smiley face with smooth brown skin and the ability to look not only like he was list
