by Marisha Pink
TWENTY-THREE
‘HELLO Chandni.’
‘Arun, I … hello. What are you doing here? Has something happened?’
‘No, no, I um … I came to see if you were all right?’
Chandni looked at him, at once confused.
‘I’m fine … why wouldn’t I be?’
Arun instantly felt foolish for his undue concern; Chandni was clearly fine. He stood outside her house feeling exposed and all too aware that things were not playing out quite how he had imagined they would.
‘Do you mind if I come in? I’m being bitten to death by mosquitoes out here,’ he lied, desperate to gloss over his awkward arrival and to keep things on track.
Chandni’s eyes widened in alarm at the suggestion and she looked around nervously unable to meet Arun’s gaze. She seemed to be wrestling with something in her mind, searching for an excuse to deny his request and he felt momentarily wounded at the prospect that she might not want to see him. However, a few moments later, she stepped back and held the door open, motioning for him to enter the house.
Inside, it was not dissimilar to Mata-ji’s house, though it extended much further back and there was a door beside the kitchen that opened onto the side of the building. Arun made himself comfortable in the small seating area, whilst Chandni dutifully fetched him a cup of water, ever the perfect host.
‘Thanks,’ he said, accepting the small cup gratefully and gulping down a few sips. The cool water was refreshing after his walk in the unbearably thick heat of the night and it provided lubrication for his throat, which kept drying out with nerves.
‘Sorry to come over unannounced, it’s just that you haven’t been at the mandir for a few days. And I haven’t seen you at the shop either … somebody told me that you were sick?’
‘I’m not sick,’ Chandni replied quickly, without any hesitation.
‘Oh … well how come you haven’t been coming to the mandir then?’
Chandni looked nervously at the floor, wringing her hands in her lap as she sat stiffly beside him, but she didn’t answer the question.
‘It’s okay, you can tell me,’ he insisted gently, setting down the cup so that he could give her his full attention.
‘It’s nothing, really, I’ll be back at the mandir tomorrow,’ she answered, gazing innocently up at him with the shining green eyes that he so adored.
Yet Arun wasn’t convinced. For Chandni to miss prayers at the mandir there must be a significant reason and as she peered up at him, bathed in the soft glow of the lights in the house, he was overcome with a desire to help her, whatever the problem might be. He didn’t know where such strong feelings had come from, especially when he barely knew Chandni, but he wanted to be her confidant and to support her, if she would let him.
‘I won’t tell anyone, I promise,’ he offered reassuringly.
‘Really, it’s nothing, Arun.’
‘You can trust me, Chandni.’
‘I do trust you, Arun.’
‘Then tell me what’s wrong. I want to help.’
‘You can’t help,’ said Chandni chuckling softly, a beautiful smile stealing across her face in the way that made Arun’s heart skip a beat.
‘I can try.’
‘Can you change biology?’
‘Huh?’
Chandni broke off her gaze and looked shyly at the floor again, unable to meet Arun’s confused eyes when she answered.
‘It is a certain time in the month … women are not allowed into the mandir during this time,’ she whispered.
Arun’s face flushed crimson with embarrassment and, rooted to the spot with mortification, he could do nothing but avert his gaze away from Chandni. How had he gotten so worked up, so obsessed with being her knight in shining armour and the solution to all her problems, that he hadn’t considered that her absence could be down to something so simple?
‘I … I … sorry,’ he stammered, his throat drying up again, leaving him unsure what else to say in response to her admission.
‘It’s okay. It’s nice to know that someone cared enough to check up on me,’ she replied smiling sweetly, though she was equally embarrassed.
‘Can I … can I get another drink of water please?’ he asked, trying to distract them both by changing the subject.
Chandni reached over his lap to grab the cup and her proximity made Arun’s whole body tingle. He watched her walk to the kitchen and fill his cup once more, mesmerised by the womanly curves that were accentuated by the tight-fitting lemon Punjabi suit that she wore. Returning, she set the cup down in front of him and settled herself back against the cushions, leaving Arun battling a growing urge to reach forward and kiss her pretty pink lips. She was so feminine, so innocent and sweet, and so unlike any other girl that he had ever met, but it wasn’t until that exact moment that he realised just how much he had missed seeing her beautiful face.
‘So, how come you are not at the mandir tonight?’ queried Chandni, playfully.
‘I told you, I wanted to make sure that you were all right,’ he answered, feeling his cheeks flame once more.
‘So Lucky dropped you off on the way?’
‘No, not exactly …’
‘Not exactly?’
‘I walked.’
‘You walked? Why didn’t Lucky drop you?’
‘Because, I sort of told him that I wasn’t feeling well and that I wanted to stay at home,’ Arun admitted shyly.
The words brought another smile to Chandni’s face and Arun felt his heart soar; she was pleased to see him. They continued to smile at each other, their eyes conducting a conversation for which no words were necessary, until, encouraged by the warmth in her expression, Arun found the confidence to ask the question that had been weighing on his mind since his arrival at the house.
‘Chandni?’
‘Yes?’
‘I know this might seem a little … strange, but I was wondering if you –’
‘What’s that noise?’ she interrupted, abruptly jumping to her feet with a sheer look of panic on her face.
Arun listened for what had startled her, but he could hear nothing except the faint ticking over of an engine.
‘It’s just someone passing by. No need to panic.’
But no sooner had the words left his mouth than he heard first the sound of Lucky’s voice, and then the sound of Rajubhai Joshi’s, as they shouted at each other over the noise from the rickshaw.
‘You have to leave,’ Chandni whispered desperately, grasping Arun’s hands and pulling him to his feet.
Arun didn’t want Lucky to discover him there, but he couldn’t understand why Chandni was so anxious.
‘You don’t have to worry about Lucky, it’s your house; he’d expect you to be here,’ he protested, laughing.
Unamused, Chandni clamped her soft hands over his mouth, instantly silencing him. Her face was stern and serious whilst she deftly swiped Arun’s cup from the floor with one hand and, depositing it in the kitchen as she passed by, forced Arun out of the side door with the other.
‘Lucky is nothing compared to what my Bapu-ji will do to us both if he finds you here,’ she whispered.
Arun was about to respond with a quick quip, but he had just enough time to glimpse Rajubhai Joshi and Lucky when they burst animatedly through the front door, before Chandni had forced the side door shut, leaving him out in the heat of the night once more.
His clothes instantly dampened with sweat, clinging to him like a second skin, but as he strained to hear the muffled sound of Lucky and Rajubhai Joshi’s conversation, a different kind of heat began to overwhelm him. It was a heat that originated deep inside of him; a fire, a passion and an insatiable desire for Chandni. His heart thumped furiously in his chest from the exhilaration of almost being caught, but he had seen her and she was beautiful, and now he knew that he wanted more. He stood rooted to the spot, staring at the place where she had been, daydreaming while he replayed their conversation in his mind. She had been so shy, so sweet, so humbled by his
visit that he was smiling goofily to himself, knowing that there was no-one around to see him in the darkness.
His reverie was soon interrupted by the sound of Lucky’s rickshaw engine sputtering to life once more. He crept along the wall to peer round at the front of the house just in time to see Lucky disappear into the night, and the realisation that he wouldn't reach home before his brother promptly brought Arun back to reality. He started to run, faster than he ever had before, the sticky heat causing him to sweat so much that his clothes became drenched in the salty, smelly liquid. He pounded the dirt road, focused only on getting home as quickly as possible and on concocting a plausible explanation as to why he had left.
When he reached his front door, sticky and breathless from his exertions, he was surprised to find the house still shrouded in darkness and none of the internal lamps lit. Lucky’s rickshaw was not parked outside and for a split second, Arun breathed a sigh of relief, believing that he had gotten away with his secret jaunt. He pushed the door open and when his eyes had adjusted to the blackness of the house, they were instantly drawn to the outline of the figure that lay sobbing in a crumpled heap on the cushions. He felt along the wall until he found the light switch and on illuminating the room, he was shocked by what he found.
‘Hanara?’
‘Arun!’ she cried out, sniffling loudly when she lifted her head from her arms.
Her face was damp and tear-stained, her eyes puffy, darkened by the smudges of kohl that now streaked across them. She wrestled with the folds of her sari and, after struggling to her feet, in two quick paces she was by Arun’s side, flinging her arms around his waist and pulling him towards her in a tight embrace. She buried her face in his chest and squeezed him tighter, sobbing harder and harder, until her tears had intermingled with his sweat and he could no longer tell which was causing his T-shirt to stick to him. Reaching around her small frame, Arun encircled his sister in his arms, trying to calm her as she shook from the force of her sobs.
‘Hanara, what’s the matter? What’s happened?’
He swallowed anxiously, his mind immediately turning to thoughts of Lucky, wondering why he was not yet home and how Hanara herself had got there. Hanara pulled away from Arun’s chest and looked up at him through tear-filled hazel eyes.
‘It … was … I … was …’ she stuttered between sobs.
‘Is it Lucky? Where is he?’
‘I thought that … you were … gone … leaving us … without … saying … goodbye.’
Arun felt relief wash over him.
‘Oh Hanara, no,’ he said soothingly, ‘I would never leave without saying goodbye. How could you think that?’
‘I … came back … to check on you … and you … are … gone. I didn’t know what … what to think,’ she blubbered.
The thought of secretly leaving had never entered Arun’s mind, in fact he was trying to find an excuse to stay longer, but he still felt a tremendous pang of guilt for causing his sister so much distress. He stroked Hanara’s hair apologetically until her sobs subsided, and eventually she released him from her grip, drawing the backs of her hands across her face to wipe away the tears.
‘I’m sorry, Hanara. I didn’t mean to worry you.’
‘Where were you?’ she sniffed loudly, regaining her composure at last.
She peered up at him expectantly, but Arun stood mute, undecided as to the answer that he should give. If he told her the truth, would she be mad at him for lying and sneaking off, or would she understand? It was difficult to discern from the look on Hanara’s face, but Arun reasoned that she was likely to be so relieved that he hadn’t run off, that any explanation would be preferable and acceptable at that particular moment. He had already lied once that day and been caught out; was it really worth perpetuating the lie further? He knew how much Lucky and Hanara valued truthfulness and he didn’t want to disappoint them. Besides, little lies had already done so much to destroy their small family.
‘I went for a walk … to see someone,’ he started, sitting down amongst the cushions and unsuccessfully trying to read Hanara’s curious facial expression.
‘Who?’
‘Chandni.’
‘Chandni? Why?’
‘To see if she was okay. You know, because you said she’s been sick.’
‘Oh,’ said Hanara, looking utterly stunned while she contemplated Arun’s admission, ‘but if you were not feeling well, then why were you going to see another person who is also sick? It’s not good to share all the germs.’
‘I’m not sick,’ Arun smiled, chuckling at her naïvety.
‘I don’t understand.’
‘I pretended to be sick, so that I could stay home from the mandir and go and see her. I’m sorry that I lied.’
‘I still don’t understand,’ she complained, her brow furrowing from the inability to make sense of Arun’s explanation. ‘If you wanted to go and see her only, why didn’t you ask Lucky to take you?’
‘Because … I wanted to see her … by myself.’
Hanara seemed so taken aback by this last admission that she finally sat down beside Arun on the cushions.
‘Do you … do you like Chandni?’
Arun nodded his head silently, feeling too exposed and embarrassed to speak.
‘Really?’ she breathed, staring at him in disbelief.
‘Yes, really … why not?’
‘Well, it’s just that, and don’t take this the wrong way, but when my other friends ask after you and try to get your attention, you never seem interested. I thought that maybe you preferred white girls only. You know, since you have come from London.’
Arun laughed out loud; here was another thought that had never entered his mind.
‘It’s not about colour, Hanara. Your other friends are … just a bit too full on for me, whereas Chandni … Chandni is different. She’s quieter, but when you get to know her she’s sweet and funny, and incredibly smart.’
‘Who’s sweet, and funny, and smart?’ came Lucky’s voice from the door.
They had been so engrossed in their conversation that they hadn’t heard his rickshaw pulling up outside.
‘It appears that our little brother has taken a liking to a lady,’ answered Hanara, grinning mischievously.
‘Oh, really? And who is it, this lady?’ Lucky queried, joining his siblings amongst the cushions scattered on the floor. He looked from his brother to his sister expectantly, desperate to be let in on the secret.
‘It’s Chandni,’ replied Arun, feeling embarrassed all over again by the attention.
‘Hey! My brother even has good taste,’ cried Lucky, slapping him playfully on the back.
‘But please, please, don’t tell anyone,’ Arun begged, suddenly recalling Hanara’s words about the village being small and everyone knowing everyone else’s business.
‘Your secret is safe with me,’ affirmed Lucky, holding his hands up and winking at Arun conspiratorially. ‘I didn’t know that when you were saying that you felt sick, that it was a love sickness only.’
‘Very funny, Lucky.’
‘I’m joking only; how are you feeling now? Better?’
Arun glanced at Hanara, unsure whether to keep up the charade now that she knew the real reason he had stayed behind for the evening.
‘He’s fine,’ she answered, stealing a knowing sideways glance at her little brother. ‘I made him some of Mata-ji’s special drink when I came home.’
‘Hey, are you okay?’ cried Lucky, immediately concerned when he caught proper sight of Hanara’s damp, kohl-stained face.
‘I’m fine. I dropped a pan on my foot only when I was preparing the drink,’ she lied convincingly.
‘Ouch, you must be more careful next time … so, Arun,’ Lucky continued, turning his attention back to his brother, ‘shall I ask if Rajubhai Joshi will meet with you tomorrow?’
‘Rajubhai Joshi? Why?’
‘For Chandni, of course,’ Lucky quipped, laughing uncontrollably at his own joke.
‘Oh no, I don’t want him to know,’ protested Arun, instantly serious and distraught at the prospect alone.
‘But how else is Chandni going to know of your feelings for her?’
‘I don’t know, but I’d at least like to tell her myself and see what she says first.’
Hanara and Lucky both began to laugh uncontrollably.
‘What’s so funny?’
‘It doesn’t matter what Chandni is saying,’ answered Hanara, between fits of giggles.
‘Why not?’
‘Because everyone knows that the only way to an Indian girl’s heart is through her father.’
