The fellow who sits in the air-conditioned office br is the one who in his youth raped br a dozen or so young girls, br and, at cocktail parties, is secretly stricken with lust, br fastening his eyes on lovelies' bellybuttons. br br In five-star hotels, br he tries out his different sexual tastes br with a variety of women, br then returns home and beats his wife br because of an over-ironed handkerchief or shirt collar. br br In his office Mr. Big puffs on a cigarette, br shuffles through files, br rings for his employee br shouts, br demands tea, br drinks, br and returns to writing people's character references. br br His employee speaks in such a low voice br that no one would ever suspect br how, at home, he also raises his voice, br is vile to his family br but with his buddies on the porch or at a movie br indulges in loud harangues on politics, br art, literature, and how some female - br his mother, grandmother, or great-grandmother - br committed suicide. br br Bidding goodbye to his buddies, br he returns home, br beats his wife br over a bar of soap br or the baby's pneumonia. br br Next day, at work, he pleasantly brings the tea, br keeps the lighter in his pocket, br receives a tip of a couple of taka, br and tells no one that he divorced his first wife for her sterility, br his second for giving birth to a daughter, br his third for not bringing a sufficient dowry. br Now, with wife number four, he again has someone: br To beat over a green chili or a handful of rice.