by Marisha Pink
THIRTY-SEVEN
BY the time of Arun’s penultimate day in the village and his last day of working in the shop, there was still no word from Prakash, and Arun was forced to resign himself to the fact that his efforts to save the village had amounted to nothing. The chances of a victory had been slim, but he had dared to hope and more importantly to try, which was more than could be said for Rajubhai Joshi. He was staring lazily out onto the road, waiting for customers to drop by and provide him with the light entertainment and distraction that he so enjoyed, when he noticed a large black vehicle advancing at pace towards the shop. When it drew closer, he recognised that it was one of the sleek executive cars that he had often seen pulling up outside the Mayfair Beach Resort Hotel, ready to chauffeur well-to-do businessmen and important dignitaries around the city.
The car ground to a halt just short of the shop and, after a few brief moments, Prakash emerged from the back seat. Arun felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end and his heart began to thump uncomfortably in his chest. For Prakash to come all the way to the village to see him, it must be important, but he didn’t know the businessman well enough to determine whether he was about to receive good or bad news.
‘Good afternoon, Arun,’ he called brightly, waving as he approached the front of the shop.
‘Good afternoon, Prakash,’ Arun responded, instantly jumping to his feet, but resisting the urge to demand an immediate explanation for Prakash’s silence.
‘How have you been?’
‘Fine, and yourself?’ Arun answered through pursed lips, the suspense now tearing at the insides of his stomach.
‘Not too bad, not too bad. Business going well?’
‘Slow. It’s my last day here today anyway.’
‘Oh?’ answered Prakash with surprise. ‘How come?’
‘I’m going back to England in a few days. I start my degree at Oxford in October.’
‘I see. Well that is a shame.’
‘Why do you say that?’
‘Well, I mean you won’t be around to enjoy the delights of the village … now that it looks as though everyone will be staying put,’ he finished with a smile.
Arun’s eyes immediately lit up and in his haste to exit the shop he nearly brought the whole thing crashing to the ground. He fumbled clumsily with the door before smacking his head on the frame, forgetting to stoop as he rushed out into the yard and flung his arms around Prakash’s shoulders with gratitude.
‘When did you? How did they? Really?’ he exclaimed all at once, before remembering who he was talking to and stepping back to shake Prakash’s hand instead. ‘Thank you. Thank you so much.’
The rotund gentleman chuckled to himself, amused by Arun’s bumbling appreciation.
‘There’s no need to thank me, Arun, I really didn’t do much. I’ll admit that it was a bit tough persuading the team to consider an alternative site at such late notice, but once they viewed it, everyone agreed that it was a viable option. We pushed through a couple of the initial site surveys last week and it looks as though the land is safe to build on, plus your friend Manoj has negotiated a very reasonable deal on the plot where the refuge used to be. The rest of the land is government owned and since there is nobody currently living around there, the projected construction and demolition costs are much lower so the bigwigs are pleased about the savings and the village gets to stay where it is. Everyone’s a winner.’
‘That’s brilliant,’ breathed Arun, almost with tears in his eyes. ‘Really Prakash, I can’t thank you enough.’
‘As I said, no need to thank me. Thank you for having such quick thinking,’ answered Prakash, bowing his head courteously. ‘I was never really too happy about being responsible for uprooting a whole village. At least now I can sleep soundly at night.’
‘I’ll bet.’
‘Listen, I can’t stay unfortunately, but I wanted to come and tell you the good news in person. Just do me a favour and keep it to yourself, okay? The team and I only met with Rajubhai Joshi this morning and I think he is planning to make some sort of official announcement at the mandir tonight.’
‘No problem at all.’
‘Great. Well, I’d better get going, lots to be done. Drop me a line when you get back to the UK, it would be good to hear how you’re getting on,’ said Prakash, extending his hand one final time.
‘I will,’ began Arun, accepting Prakash’s hand, ‘thanks again … for everything … you have no idea what this will mean to everyone.’
‘My pleasure.’
Prakash turned on his heel and started back towards the car. Within a few minutes he had been swallowed up by the darkness of the car’s blacked-out windows and after a perfectly executed three-point turn by the driver, the car sped off into the distance.
Arun could hardly contain his excitement and though he had promised not to shout it from the rooftops, he felt compelled to share the news with Hanara immediately. Leaving the shop unmanned and unlocked, he flounced into the house, where he found Hanara crouched over a large pot shelling peas.
‘Hey, Arun, who is watching the shop only? I know it’s your last day, but there is no need for slacking,’ she joked amicably.
Arun dropped down onto the floor beside her and watched her at work, an enormous smile plastered across his bronzed face.
‘What do you want only? It’s very distracting to have you staring at me like that,’ she grumbled.
When Arun didn’t respond, Hanara paused what she was doing to look across at him properly, but it was only then that she registered the inane look on his face.
‘What are you so happy about?’ she demanded, regarding him suspiciously.
‘Hanara, we did it. The village doesn’t have to move. They’re going to build the airport where the old Rachna Hari is,’ he screeched, his voice rising to a crescendo by the time he had managed to get all of the words out.
‘Are you … are you being serious?’
Hanara’s question didn’t require an answer because the ridiculous grin on Arun’s face told her everything that she needed to know. Shrieking with glee, she leapt to her feet, almost knocking over the pot of peas. She dragged Arun to his feet too and, hand in hand, they danced a delighted little jig around the room, lost in their rapture.
‘We need to tell everyone,’ Hanara gushed. ‘Does Rajubhai Joshi know? We need to tell him!’
‘Yes, he knows, but Hanara you can’t say anything to anyone. Rajubhai Joshi is going to announce it tonight at the mandir.’
Hanara clapped her hands together ecstatically, relieved and still slightly shocked that they would no longer have to leave their home.
‘Can we tell Lucky?’
‘Of course we can tell Lucky!’
When Lucky returned a few hours later, Hanara and Arun pounced on him the moment that he entered the house. Overcome with emotion, Lucky wept openly at the news; the weeks of stress trying to figure out how to make his job work from the new village suddenly released by a single revelation. He was full of praise for Arun’s headstrong determination and it was a joyous moment for them all as they settled down to dinner in the knowledge that there would be more dinners in the house to come. A deep sense of satisfaction pervaded Arun’s soul and he felt proud to have helped to secure not only a piece of his family’s history, but also the future of an entire community. Of all the things that he had achieved in his short life, this was his greatest accomplishment and the strongest signal to date that he was where he was supposed to be.
The thought was a bittersweet one and after the dinner plates had been cleared away, and Lucky and Hanara had retired to their rooms to dress for the mandir, Arun remained lounging amongst the cushions lost in thought. Hanara re-emerged briefly to search for her shoes and was surprised to find Arun relaxing in the clothes that he had put on earlier that morning.
‘Aren’t you going to change?’ she chided.
‘Actually I, um, I think I’m going to sit this one out,’ he said quietly.
‘What
do you mean you’re going to sit this one out?’ exclaimed Lucky, smoothing out the length of his tunic as he emerged from the bedroom.
The siblings regarded Arun quizzically, unable to comprehend his sudden change in mood.
‘I think I’m going to stay here tonight.’
‘You can’t stay home; we have to celebrate our good news. Everyone at the mandir will be so pleased; they’ll all want to see you and to thank you,’ cried Hanara.
‘I know … but I will see them all tomorrow at my leaving party anyway.’
‘Please come, Arun. It will be our last visit to the mandir together for a while,’ said Lucky, his eyes wide and pleading.
‘I want to Lucky, I really do, but I … I just don’t think that I can face seeing Chandni again. We’ve already said our goodbyes; it’s too hard. Besides, it’s probably a good idea to steer clear of Rajubhai Joshi too. He’s not going to be too pleased that I went behind his back … again.’
‘Of course he will be pleased,’ shrieked Lucky incredulously. ‘Arun, if you hadn’t gone behind his back, we would all be halfway across the countryside right now, too far away to even go to the mandir.’
Arun looked from his brother to his sister and back again; they looked so pitiful, so scorned by his decision not to come with them and though he didn’t want to upset them, he knew in his heart that he simply couldn’t face seeing Chandni.
‘I’m sorry, I really am, but I just can’t. You go and I promise that we will have a proper celebration tomorrow.’
Hanara and Lucky nodded their heads grudgingly, but Arun knew that deep down they understood his predicament. A few moments later they disappeared through the front door and, in the silence of the house, Arun found himself alone with his thoughts once more.
