Retirment, what’s that, wonders Khairnar

businessman who is also “associated with the Gandhi family” (Mahatma Gandhi) and who will provide funds for the upliftment of street children. Refusing to identify the businessman, He says: “The plans are in perliminary stages.” But the NRI has passed the `Khairnar test’, which certifies that the new `adoptive parent’ has sincere intentions. (read: free of political ambitions or vested interests) Interesting, considering that even gangster Arun Gawli had approached Khairnar a few years ago with funds and infrastructure to sustain his campaign to rescue women from brothels.

“Many people come forward with funds but I am careful to see that the motives are clean,” he says, resting his feet on a chair. “My knees hurt if they are right angles for too long,” he explains. Arthritis? “Don’t know. The problem began couple of years ago.” He has not sought any medical advice. “He does not need it,” wife Ashalata remarks.

For the couple, these are small matters. Like the need to look out for accommodation, now that he is no longer with the BMC. “I have never given it a thought. “Kahi bhi reh lenge.” If we cannot manage a place in Mumbai, we can always move to the outskirts of the city,” he says. But the realisation that these things matter is finally dawning. Answering the phone and accepting an invitation to chair a function, he says: “Can you send someone to pick me up as I have given back the BMC vehicle.”

Not that there is any dearth of people who are willing to help. Among his visitors is a young couple who desperately wants to `adopt’ him and take him home as their `father’. “You can come and stay with us any time you please. Just give me a call and we shall come and pick up your wife and you,” the man says.

A smile and a thank you later, the couple leaves and Khainar calls out, “Lataji” (his wife), the woman who has been constantly changing to suit her husband’s persona. She even became an atheist after marriage as Khairnar was one. She doesn’t wear green bangles, an integral part of Maharashtrian tradition, either. “I did away with them after I learnt that they used child labour to make them,” she explains. Her husband cannot resist taking a dig at her. “But you had your hands full of bangles when we were newly married,” he teases. “No I wore only four bangles,” she returns. “No there were eight to nine bangles,” he insists. “Fine,” he says. And the wife wins.