by Marisha Pink
NINETEEN
‘SELL me? What do you mean, sell me?’
‘She called it an exchange, but that’s what it really is, isn’t it Arun?’
‘Hanara, please, you’re not making any sense. What are you talking about?’
‘Did you really think that Mata-ji would give away her baby just for the chance of it becoming a doctor?’
‘But Lucky said –’
‘I know what Lucky said; it’s what Lucky believes only. But I know you are not so simple.’
Arun felt his breathing begin to quicken.
‘Are you … are you saying that my mother paid for me? That she gave Kalpana money?’ he whispered hoarsely, barely able to get the words out.
Hanara remained mute, but the look on her face told Arun everything that he needed to know.
The blood drained away from his face and suddenly he felt hot and unable to breathe. Hanara’s words had winded him and he clutched frantically at his throat, rhythmically opening and closing his mouth, desperate to fill his lungs with air. He felt like he was being crushed, his chest and throat constricted by the enormity of Hanara’s revelation, and though every fibre in his body wanted to reject the awful truth, this time he had no words to explain away his mother’s actions.
Hanara, who had until now remained perfectly calm, started to panic at the sight of her brother’s distress.
‘Are you okay?’
‘I … I can’t … I can’t breathe …’ he managed between the rapid succession of quick, shallow breaths.
‘Hey Bhagwan, I’m sorry, please calm down,’ she urged, gently fanning his face with her delicate hands.
When this produced no visible effect, she reached across Arun’s lap to retrieve one of the cushions and began to shake it at speed, inches from his face. The cool waves of air were soothing against his damp, flushed skin and Arun closed his eyes tightly, concentrating hard on trying to regulate his breathing.
When his breaths had slowed to a more manageable pace, Hanara placed the cushion at Arun’s feet and stood to fetch a cup of water. Guiltily, she handed the cup to him on her return and, kneeling down beside him, tucking her feet neatly to one side, peered apologetically into his face.
‘Are you okay?’
‘I think so,’ answered Arun meekly, promptly draining the cup of its contents.
‘Sorry for giving you a shock.’
Arun sighed loudly.
‘It’s … it’s the truth though, isn’t it?’
Hanara nodded sombrely and Arun felt nauseated at the thought of his mother paying for him.
‘I just don’t understand why. Why would my mother do something like that? She loved children … it doesn’t make any sense.’
It was Hanara’s turn to sigh deeply.
‘I heard them talking many, many times; they never sent me away because they thought that I couldn’t understand what they were discussing. It was all Dr Cathy’s idea only. She wanted a baby so much and I don’t know why she wanted you especially, but she did not stop until she had convinced Mata-ji that giving you to her was the right thing.’
‘But how? How could Kalpana ever be convinced that it is right to sell a child? Her child?’
‘She was scared, Arun. After Bapu-ji left we had almost nothing; if we hadn’t come to Rachna Hari then I don’t know what would have happened to us. Mata-ji was scared to be alone again and with three small children to take care of, how was she going to work? How was she going to feed us and give us clothes? She told all this to Dr Cathy, but Dr Cathy was pretending to be her friend only, pretending to care when really she was using this information to trick Mata-ji. Instead of giving some reassurance, she agreed with her and made it sound as though two children would be ok to manage alone, but three would be impossible. It’s like this only that she convinced her.’
‘Okay,’ mouthed Arun slowly, ‘suppose I believe what you’re saying. Suppose I believe that Kalpana was worried about how she would cope. Why didn’t she put me up for adoption properly? If my mother wanted a child so badly then surely she would have gone through the process, not offered Kalpana money. It wasn’t in her nature to take advantage of other people.’
Yet even as Arun said it, he wasn’t sure that he believed it anymore. It disgusted him to think that his mother had behaved in this way, but it suddenly made sense of everything. Made sense of the lies that she had told to both him and Arthur, made sense of the secrecy surrounding Kalpana’s letters, and made sense of why there was no record of his adoption either at home, or at Rachna Hari. At last he had an answer, but the moment was bittersweet and there in the stifling heat of his birth mother’s house, he had never despised his adoptive mother more.
‘All this Mata-ji asked Dr Cathy,’ Hanara explained quietly, ‘but Dr Cathy said this way was better for everybody. The money she gave to Mata-ji would be enough for us to make a new home and a new life; Mata-ji would know that Dr Cathy was a good person who would look after her baby and give it a good life, and Dr Cathy would know the baby’s history and be certain that it would not have health problems later on. She told Mata-ji that adoption was complicated, that it takes a very long time, and that they wouldn’t tell Mata-ji where they were sending you. This way, Mata-ji would know everything and Dr Cathy promised to give updates, if Mata-ji promised not to contact you.’
‘I am understanding that this is not in our agreement,’ muttered Arun to himself, drawing from somewhere in the depths of his mind the memory of Kalpana’s words in the first letter that he had found.
So much had happened since that day in his mother’s study, the day on which his world had changed forever, that he could barely remember the detail of it and now the weeks of anguish and anger at his mother’s loss boiled down to a single, all-consuming emotion: disappointment. Disappointment that she had played on another woman’s fears and goaded her into giving away her child. Disappointment that she had paid cold hard cash for his love and his trust. And disappointment that she was not the woman that the world had believed her to be.
‘Arun,’ continued Hanara timidly, interrupting his spiralling thoughts, ‘there is one more thing also … it wasn’t only money.’
Arun felt the lump reforming in his throat.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Mata-ji was not happy about never being allowed to contact you and she was not going to make the agreement … but then Dr Cathy promised to fix Lucky’s smile also.’
‘His cleft lip surgery? Why would that convince her?’
‘Before, Lucky’s smile was a very big problem for us; it is considered bad luck, like an evil spirit. People in India wouldn’t accept his face like this and he would have had trouble going to school, getting a job and even finding a wife. This brought even more shame on Mata-ji for having no husband and a sick child, but we never had enough money to fix it. Even at Rachna Hari they said it was too expensive for the operation and they wouldn’t do it there.
‘It is like this only that Dr Cathy finally convinced Mata-ji. You would have a good life and become a doctor, Lucky would have a chance to make a good life for himself here, and Mata-ji would have money to start again and support our family. Dr Cathy said that everybody would be better off if Mata-ji made the agreement. Does that make sense?’
‘Remember it’s for Lucky,’ Arun muttered slowly, recalling Arthur’s account of Catherine’s last days and finally comprehending what his father had been unable to. It made sense, of course it did, but it didn’t make the explanation any easier to digest. Arun sighed deeply. He was exhausted, mentally and physically, and he no longer had the strength to fight what he knew in his heart to be the truth: his mother was a fraud. There were no more tears left to cry for her, no more words left to say in her defence, and all that remained in his heart was an empty hollow where the memory of a woman that he had once been proud to call his mother used to be.
‘I’m sorry, Hanara. I’m sorry for all the hurt and pain that my mo –, that Dr Cathy has brought our family.’
> ‘It’s not only Dr Cathy,’ answered Hanara, a genuine look of sadness in her eyes, ‘why did you never try to find us? Didn’t you ever ask about us or wonder how we were?’
‘I didn’t know about you, or Lucky, and … Dr Cathy told me that Kal –, Mata-ji, died after I was born, otherwise of course I would have tried to find you. I was told that Dr Cathy and Mata-ji became friends at Rachna Hari and that Mata-ji asked Dr Cathy to take care of me just before she died. That’s what I’ve always believed … until now,’ he finished sombrely.
‘She told you Mata-ji was dead? I had no idea,’ gasped Hanara in surprise. ‘So you really came as soon as you could? As soon as you found out about us?’
‘Of course I did. As soon as I found Mata-ji’s letters, as soon as I knew that she was alive and sick I started asking questions, but nobody could tell me anything. Arthur, my adoptive father, he didn’t know any more than I did. I had to find you through Rachna Hari and believe me it wasn’t easy.’
Hanara stared at her brother for the longest time, her almond-shaped eyes unblinking, yet devoid of the malice that had once possessed them. She seemed to finally understand that Arun was an innocent victim of circumstance, but just when she parted her lips to respond, the front door burst open.
‘Sorry I took so long! Mrs Satpathy was having such a conversation with her cousin that it was impossible to leave only. Can we eat please? I’m starving,’ rushed Lucky all at once, oblivious to the discussion that he had interrupted.
In an instant the moment was gone. Without uttering a word, Hanara dutifully stood and returned to the kitchen to heat up their food, leaving Arun to contend with Lucky’s inane chatter all alone. Frustrated by the interruption, Arun tried to feign interest in the details of Lucky’s trip with Mrs Satpathy, but it was too difficult to focus. Hanara had unexpectedly opened up to him and at last he knew the truth about his mothers and his adoption. It was not at all what he had expected and he found himself involuntarily recalling Arthur’s words of caution about not liking what he might find. He didn’t like what he had discovered, but it was the truth, and at the very least he would now be able to quiet his mind, all his questions finally answered.
A few minutes later, Hanara reappeared with the evening meal, but she refused to meet Arun’s watchful gaze, focusing her attention on Lucky instead.
‘Lucky, could you please just run and pick a few coriander leaves from outside? I thought that I had enough, but I just need a few more to sprinkle on the top here,’ she smiled sweetly.
Obediently, Lucky scrambled to his feet and shuffled out of the front door in search of the missing ingredient, but as soon as he was out of earshot, Hanara turned to Arun with a worried look on her face.
‘You mustn’t tell Lucky any of what we discussed.’
‘Why not?’
‘Oh Arun, it would break him. It would break his heart to know that Mata-ji gave you away so that Dr Cathy would fix his smile. He would never forgive himself. Please, you have to promise me that you won’t tell him, not any of it, not ever.’
Arun contemplated the request; he didn’t like the idea of keeping yet more secrets, but then it would serve nothing and no-one to dwell on the specifics of their terrible past. He had the answers that he needed and, if Hanara were to be believed, shattering Lucky’s illusions could cause untold damage, not only to Lucky, but also to the relationship that they had built with one another. He didn’t want Lucky to feel guilty or resentful, and having reached an understanding with Hanara, for the first time in weeks, he dared to hope that he might still be able to forge a relationship with her too. The past had nothing left to offer him or his siblings and Arun resolved there and then to put it firmly behind him.
‘Okay,’ he said, nodding at Hanara decisively in agreement, ‘I promise.’
When Lucky returned he continued to dominate the conversation, still unaware of the exchange that had taken place between his siblings, but this time Arun welcomed his brother’s trivial chatter while he ate his fill and wound down from the earlier tensions of the evening. When their stomachs were full, the trio relaxed in the dimly lit house, and for the first time, Lucky and Arun’s conversation was not punctuated by abusive remarks from their sister.
‘Have you given any more thought to staying for Rath Yatra, Arun?’
‘You know that I want to, Lucky, but I really can’t afford to move my flight home and pay for extra nights at the hotel. And I’m not really comfortable asking Arthur for any more money.’
‘How many times do I have to tell you? You can stay here with us, isn’t it,’ cried Lucky, looking somewhat exasperated.
Arun looked uncertainly from Lucky to Hanara, trying to gauge his sister’s reaction, but she remained mute and expressionless. He wasn’t ready to leave at all, but equally he didn’t want to outstay his welcome, and after their earlier exchange, he was aware that Hanara was approaching the limits of her tolerance for him.
‘You don’t have the room, Lucky. Besides, where would I sleep?’
‘You would sleep with me, in my room, of course. There is plenty of room.’
‘That’s very kind of you, but really, I’ve already been far too much of an inconvenience to you both. And you need to get back to work,’ he added, glancing sideways at Hanara.
‘Ha! I am going back to work even if you come to stay. Don’t you worry about this. My holidays are over now, even if yours are not.’
‘Well there you go then; what would I do all day whilst you are out working? There are still two whole weeks until Rath Yatra. I would only get in Hanara’s way.’
‘You could help in the shop,’ she interjected, her voice unusually small, but firm nonetheless.
Lucky turned to her in surprise, astonished that she had ventured any suggestion, least of all one which would see Arun staying longer, and in their house.
‘Are you … are you sure?’ whispered Arun slowly, searching her eyes for tacit understanding.
But Hanara closed her eyes and simply nodded her head in answer to his question.
‘It is settled then,’ cried Lucky excitedly, ‘you will stay here with us and you can help Hanara in the shop until Rath Yatra.’
Confused by Hanara’s sudden change of heart, but smart enough to secure Arun’s stay before she had the chance to change her mind, Lucky began to dance elatedly around the room. He rambled on, listing out all of the things that he and Arun would now have the time to see and do, but Arun was no longer listening. Speechless, but genuinely grateful, he smiled at his sister with a newfound respect. They had turned a corner and though he was sure that there was still a long way to go, when he looked from her to his perpetually beaming brother, he knew in that moment that he was right where he was supposed to be.
