by Marisha Pink
SIXTEEN
THE house was mute in the wake of Hanara’s violent verbal assault. Aaron and Lucky remained seated in the living quarters, immobilised by the harsh reality that her words had brought, whilst Hanara had quietly concealed herself behind the wall to her bedroom. The revelation hung ominously over them like a dark black cloud and Aaron could not escape the deprecating thoughts that raced through his mind, dragging him down, deeper and deeper, until he was replete with guilt. He was the reason that Kalpana had died, the reason that she had refused to attend the hospital, but he hadn’t known that she was waiting until his accidental discovery. He racked his brains, wondering whether he ought to have done anything differently. Should he have asked more questions about her when growing up? Could he have come to India any sooner than he did? Would she have gone if he’d written to her, to let her know when he would be coming?
Should have, could have and would have; the three distant cousins of a fait accompli taunted and teased him relentlessly, until he was certain, no matter which angle he looked at it from, that Kalpana’s death was his fault. He had lost a mother that he had never known, but worse still he had robbed Hanara and Lucky of the only mother that they had ever known.
‘You mustn’t believe what she said,’ whispered Lucky gently, finally finding his voice again.
‘I think she might be right.’
‘Oh, Aaron, no, you must never think that. It was Mata-ji’s wish only not to go to the hospital.’
‘But if I had come sooner, then she would have gone.’
Lucky sighed loudly.
‘Even if you had come last year it is no guarantee that she would have gone; she was a very stubborn woman. Believe me, she was really in a very bad health, Aaron. I think it was God’s wish only to bring her peace.’
‘It’s just … I can’t … I can’t believe this is happening … again,’ he replied, fighting back tears.
‘What do you mean “again”?’
Aaron looked at his brother gravely, unsure whether to share the full extent of his thoughts for fear of judgement, but Lucky’s thus far unwavering kindness and understanding had unwittingly created a bond that conferred an innate sense of trust between them.
‘My mother, my adoptive mother,’ Aaron began, immediately correcting himself, ‘she also died … about six weeks ago.’
‘Oh, Aaron,’ breathed Lucky, his eyes wide with surprise, ‘what happened?’
‘She was sick too. I was away travelling and I … I didn’t get back in time before she … you know.’
Lucky regarded Aaron with warmth and compassion in his eyes and unexpectedly lurched forward, pulling his brother into a tight embrace against his bare chest. Aaron was stiff at first, unfamiliar with the experience of men freely expressing their emotions, but he soon relaxed and allowed Lucky to comfort him in the way that he had always imagined family might in the wake of such news.
‘I am so very sorry to hear this, Aaron,’ he muttered sombrely, releasing his grip until he held Aaron at arm’s length by the shoulders. ‘She was a very lovely woman.’
‘You remember her?’
‘Of course. How is it I could forget the lady who gave me my smile?’ he shrugged nostalgically, the crooked, signature smile spreading across his face once more.
‘I … I don’t understand.’
Lucky relinquished his grip on Aaron’s shoulders and pointed to the faint, fleshy, pink scar above his top lip.
‘Dr Cathy did this. Before, my lips were trapped in my mouth only, but she fixed it,’ he finished brightly.
Aaron peered closely at Lucky’s face, inspecting the relic of his brother’s cleft lip surgery. It was strange to think that his mother had made such a physical and emotional impact on him, that he still remembered her after all these years.
‘Did she do this for you at Rachna Hari?’ he continued curiously. Though he had viewed it in a somewhat dilapidated state, he couldn’t imagine the old Rachna Hari building ever being sterile enough, or sufficiently equipped, to handle such an operation.
‘Oh no, we had left Rachna Hari a long time before that. We were staying in a big house in the hills only, a fancy house with painted shutters. Hanara and I could have had ten rooms each to ourselves, but Mata-ji wanted to keep us close by, so we stayed together all in one room. Dr Cathy did it there only, a little while after you were born.’
‘Wait,’ cried Aaron, desperate to piece together the fragments of the story surrounding his birth, ‘are you saying that I wasn’t born at Rachna Hari?’
‘Of course you weren’t born at Rachna Hari; didn’t Dr Cathy tell you any of this?’
Aaron shook his head, feeling uncomfortable in the wake of Lucky’s question. He couldn’t bring himself to tell Lucky the awful truth about how he had discovered Kalpana’s existence; it seemed too cruel to shatter his illusions about his mother’s character and Aaron knew from personal experience how disheartening that felt.
‘Dr Cathy looked after all of us at Rachna Hari, but she was not like the other doctors,’ Lucky explained, ‘she was more like a friend only. Always checking that we were okay and making sure that we didn’t need anything. She used to give Hanara and I help with our English, even though she was not giving the proper lessons with the other teachers. Her and Mata-ji became very close; they were always talking together like women do. I think Dr Cathy gave Mata-ji a hope that everything would be okay again after Bapu-ji left.’
‘Bapu-ji?’
‘Our father.’
‘Oh, I see. Is that why you went to Rachna Hari? Because Bapu-ji left?’
‘I think so. I don’t remember everything exactly; Hanara will be better for that because she is a bit older, isn’t it? I can remember being in Rachna Hari and afterwards moving to the big house with Dr Cathy only. Sometime after that you were born and then maybe a small time after that, Dr Cathy fixed my smile. We stayed together for a while, all five of us in the big house, and then we left to come here.’
‘So I lived here for a while too?’ Aaron asked, looking around the room with a newfound affinity for the place.
‘No, no, you stayed with Dr Cathy. Mata-ji told us that she was going to adopt you, so that you could go to a proper fancy school in England, and one day become a doctor too. Are you a doctor now?’ asked Lucky excitedly.
‘No, no, I’m not … not yet.’
‘But you are going to be, yes?’
‘I am going to start studying to become a doctor in October, yes.’
Lucky’s eyes lit up brightly once more.
‘You are so very fortunate to have this opportunity, Aaron. Mata-ji would have been so proud to know that you will become someone so respectable.’
But Aaron had to wonder whether he had really been fortunate at all. Was fortune being torn away from your real family and home, denied the chance to know them both? Was fortune having all of the things that money could buy, but little of what it could not? And was fortune growing up in a world where nobody truly accepted you for who and what you were, except for the deceitful woman that you had called your mother? He swallowed hard, struggling to digest the new information that Lucky had given him. He knew that it was ugly, but he felt bitter and inexplicably jealous of Lucky and Hanara. How could Kalpana have thought that a life with her, a life good enough for his brother and sister, was so bad that he would be better off with strangers? He didn’t dispute that becoming a doctor was a huge accomplishment, but he wasn’t convinced that the ends justified the means either.
With such limited knowledge of Kalpana’s character and life, it was difficult to judge her for the decisions that she had made, but there was someone else whose actions did not tally up for Aaron. There was simply no way that the great Dr Catherine Rutherford, revered so highly by everyone from Lucky to her peers, could have believed that the best place for a newborn baby was millions of miles away from his real family in a foreign place. Even if Aaron were to trust that her intentions had been honourable, the secrecy and lies, and her denial of
Kalpana’s final wish, only led Aaron to the conclusion that there was still something that he didn’t know. Yet with his mother and Kalpana both gone, there was every chance that he may never uncover what that something was.
It was only late afternoon, but Aaron was physically and mentally exhausted. There were so many questions, so much more that he wanted to know, but he was afraid that any more revelations might cause his head to explode. He had found their discussion insightful, but now he needed some time alone to process his thoughts and feelings.
‘I think I’d better get going, Lucky,’ he said hesitantly, unsure how to excuse himself without causing offence.
‘Oh, but you can’t go,’ moaned Lucky, ‘you must stay here, with us. We have so much more to catch up on.’
‘If he wants to go, then let him go,’ said Hanara as she reappeared in the doorway.
Lucky scowled at her unpleasantly.
‘Don’t listen to her, Aaron. You must stay here with us, I insist it. Mata-ji would not have allowed you to leave just yet, not now that you are home finally.’
‘Thanks, Lucky, that’s very kind of you, but I really must get back to Puri. I just need a little time on my own, if that’s okay? Besides, all of my things are there, I don’t have anything with me.’
‘Ahh,’ nodded Lucky, ‘okay, but then please, you must at least eat something before you go. How rude of us not to feed you anything.’
‘I’m not going to cook anything for him,’ Hanara pronounced defiantly.
‘That’s so kind of you, but really I’m not very hungry.’
Lucky looked heartbroken.
‘I’ll come back tomorrow, I promise,’ Aaron offered, desperate to bring back Lucky’s charming crooked smile.
‘Really you don’t have to,’ quipped Hanara spitefully, sharply contrasting with Lucky’s now shining face.
‘Fine, then it is settled. Now, if you are not eating, then at least I am taking you back to Puri.’
Aaron nodded his agreement, unsure how he would get back to the city otherwise.
‘Where are you staying?’
‘At the Mayfair Beach Resort Hotel.’
‘What a surprise,’ Hanara mouthed sarcastically, tutting in disapproval.
Lucky and Aaron both ignored her and, beaming, Lucky scampered off to his room in search of something to cover his chest. Feeling uncomfortable with the silence, Aaron started to say something, but swiftly changed his mind, not wanting to incite yet more of Hanara’s wrath. Lucky quickly returned wearing a thin beige shirt that hung loosely from his slight frame and the pair made their way outside towards his rickshaw. Hanara followed them as far as the front door, but remained tacit when Aaron wished her goodbye.
Huge clouds of terracotta dust were generated as they made their way back to Puri and without the shelter provided by a proper taxi, Aaron found himself intermittently covering his mouth to keep from inhaling deep lungfuls of the powdery earth. Appearing to be immune to the plumes of dirt, Lucky rambled on relentlessly throughout the journey, asking Aaron all of the questions that they hadn’t had time for back at the house. He was eager to learn all that he could about his brother and seemed particularly intrigued by his lifestyle back in England. Aaron did his best to answer between mouthfuls of dust and by the time they were approaching the Mayfair Beach Resort Hotel, Lucky seemed quite disappointed to learn that Aaron’s life was not quite the glamorous existence that he had imagined.
‘So you really don’t know any of the royal family?’
‘No, Lucky, I'm afraid that I don’t,’ answered Aaron, chuckling at the absurdity of the question as he hopped out of the rickshaw.
He approached the front cabin and found himself in the uncomfortable position of not knowing whether he ought to pay Lucky for the ride; the journey was not exactly a short one and chauffeuring tourists around the city was, after all, his brother’s livelihood. Not wanting to appear rude or presumptuous, Aaron fished in his pockets until he felt the crumple of notes beneath his fingers and pulled out two hundred rupees. Lucky looked at him, at once insulted.
‘Please, keep your money.’
‘But you’ve driven me all this way, I –’
Lucky held up his hand, immediately silencing Aaron’s feeble protestations.
‘What is it if I can’t even give my only brother a ride?’
Aaron was once again touched and humbled by Lucky’s words. Lucky would still have to make his way back to the village and the round trip would consume not only his time, but a considerable amount of fuel too. Yet there he was, a relative stranger with a beguiling crooked smile, who in the space of a few short hours had unquestioningly welcomed Aaron into both his heart and his home.
‘Thank you,’ he said in his sincerest tone, ‘you really didn’t have to.’
‘No, Aaron, thank you. You didn’t have to come back.’
