Drawing out the water from the mop bristles, I put it on the stand to let it dry. I wipe my wet palms on my salwar and pick up the purse.

"Auntieji, ayi main. Darwaza band kar do."

"Thik hain." Madam came out from the room to close the door in my wake. "Aur haan sn Preeti, kal zara jaldi ayio. Hamare rishtedaar aa rahe hain. Toh bartan thode zyadan hi honge."

"Haan ji, Auntieji. Yaad hain mujhe." I pushed my cracked soles into the worn chappals and reached the top of the stairs.

"Late mat hoiyo." Madam called from behind and I did my best to stifle the curse arising from deep within me.

Fucking assholes. "Rishtedaar aa rahe hain, bartan zayada honge." Then why the fuck don't you pay me more too? Bloody vultures.

I walk faster to exit the apartment building and onto the main road. Its summer and the weather has already turned punishing. I am thirsty, should have drunk water before leaving. Well, can't be helped.

Crossing the main road, I enter the bye lane opposite the apartment building. A ten minutes journey later, through the narrow lanes I finally reach the Mayuri Beauty Salon.

Inside, the dingy parlour is empty. It is afternoon, the house wives who are the main patrons of this beauty parlour are taking their siestas. I espy my best friend Shefali in a corner, having her lunch.

She shares her food with me and there is nothing but silence in the next fifteen minutes while we eat.

Once we are both done and Shefali has resumed her seat behind the counter, I start venting my frustration.

"What the fuck, man! You stay in such big apartments, whether its rented or owned. All your kanjoosi starts when it comes to the maid, huh? You pay for daily chores and then expect that will also cover your extra jobs." I rant in front of the double sided mirrors. "You tell me, Shefu, am I wrong?"

"Aur beta, nobody is wrong. Everybody tries to pinch penny from somewhere. The hired help is the easiest place where they can do that. What about me? Everyday these women come and try to bargain for ten bucks." She picks up a lip liner and starts to sharpen it.

"Har mahiney toh aati hu." Shefali mimics one of her customers. "Eyebrow pluck karane ke pachaas rupaye? Chaalis rakh lo." She wiggles her eyebrows in a perfect imitation of our local aunties and I burst out laughing.

"You are hilarious, Shefu." I tell her between bouts of laughter. "You should also have a YouTube channel like Jamie Lever."

"Who that?"

"Arey, she is Johny Lever's daughter. She does the most amazing mimicry. You also start. You will become an internet sensation overnight you see."

She looks at me sardonically and starts on the next liner.

"Stop living in your dream world Preeti. Nothing awesome like that is ever going to happen to us."

I take a good look at myself in the mirror. I see the frayed ends of my hair which are always in a bun to keep them from falling on my face while I am washing dishes or mopping. I look at the chipped nails with the cheap red varnish. My collarbones are sticking out, indicating malnourishment. The road side salwar kameez hiding an unimpressive body with too small breasts and a thin physique.

Finally I focus on my face. The dark shadows under my eyes- my lacklustre, dim eyes. The snubbed nose and the cracked lips on an unimpressive dusky skin. Not by any stretch of imagination can I be called pretty.

And I am named Preeti. What a fucking joke!

"You are right, Shefali. You are absolutely right. How can anything good ever happen to me? Look at me. One look at me and you know that I am a maid. Just a maid."

"Preeti..."

"And there is it. Preeti Kumari. What a sick joke! Couldn't my parents come up with something better? Preeti Kumari? That's all they could do for their daughter? They knew they were breeding to produce another maid to earn wages for them, couldn't they have at least given me a better name? Couldn't they have at least given me a chance of trying to do something else with my life? Couldn't they have named me something like Alia, or Kareena, or Aisha or something? Anything better than plain and simple fucking Preeti Kumari?"

"You know you are just naming movie stars."

"Of course, I know." I snap at her. "For, how can I have even the name of a movie star?" I flop down on the faux leather seat. "Shefali, tell me I don't have to spend my life like this! Being a maid? Being totally insignificant in the world?"

Hello my dear readers! This is my first attempt to write something with unconventional characters. Where the hero ad heroines are less than honorable intentions, a world where there are no free goodies.

Please comment about anything- your likes, dislikes, ways of improving, I welcome it all...

-Claire