by Marisha Pink
THIRTY-EIGHT
THE next day, Arun and Lucky helped Hanara to prepare the house for Arun’s farewell party. They had been expecting a reasonable number of guests anyway, but following Rajubhai Joshi’s announcement the night before, details of Arun’s involvement in orchestrating the deal had spread and everybody wanted the opportunity to thank him and wish him well with his studies. Hanara spent most of the day cooking, myriad smells wafting out from the pots and pans that she had left to simmer over the hearth, whilst Lucky busied himself recording Hindi songs off the radio to create the perfect party cassette, which he planned to gift to Arun as a souvenir of his time in India.
All day long the house was a hive of activity and there was no time to breathe when guests started to stream through the front door part way through the afternoon. It wasn’t long before the house buzzed with the sounds of people talking and laughing, eating and drinking, and Arun barely had two minutes to himself as guest after guest stopped to thank and congratulate him. There could be no doubt that he was enjoying himself and it was a strange feeling, not only to be the centre of attention, but to be included, celebrated and honoured by the community, when all his life he’d only ever felt like an awkward outsider looking in on a world that he was supposedly a part of.
By late afternoon the party was in full swing and Arun could only look on in amusement while Lucky tried to goad some of the younger guests into dancing to his favourite song. Just when he feared that he would be Lucky’s next unfortunate victim, he felt a soft tap on his shoulder and, relieved by the excuse to move away from the makeshift dance floor, he turned to see who it was.
‘Good afternoon, Arun.’
‘Good afternoon, sir,’ he replied, instantly filled with panic as he stared into Rajubhai Joshi’s deep green eyes.
‘I wondered if perhaps I might have a few moments of your time?’
‘Of course,’ he answered more confidently than he felt. He was certain that the old man was there to reprimand him for meddling in the village’s affairs, or worse, that he had found out about his secret rendezvous with Chandni a few nights before.
‘Do you mind if we step outside? It’s a little bit noisy in here; I can hardly hear myself.’
Arun led the way through the house and out into the backyard, where the sun was slowly starting to sink into the horizon. Rajubhai Joshi appeared calm and composed, but Arun instinctively felt on edge, nervously twisting his fingers around the cup that he was holding.
‘It would seem that you have an aptitude for pursuing things behind my back, Arun,’ the old man began. ‘First my daughter, and now my village.’
Arun remained silent, fearful that anything he said would be twisted or made to sound worse than it actually was, much like during their previous confrontation.
‘Whilst I am not fond of secrecy or lies, I do have to admire your tenacity. You believed that our village could be saved and, in spite of my lack of support for your ideas, you went after what you believed in. That took a lot of courage and I respect courage. This whole village is now forever indebted to you, as am I.’
Rajubhai Joshi paused momentarily and Arun released a long sigh, relieved to discover that the old man was not there to chastise him for his actions.
‘I am prepared to admit that I may have misjudged you, Arun, and for that I am sorry. My daughter speaks very highly of you, as do many other members of our community, and I can see that she has not been the same since I forced you from her life. She says that the two of you are in love; tell me, is this true? Do you love my daughter?’
‘Yes sir, I do, very much,’ Arun croaked, his mouth dry from nerves.
He held his breath in his chest whilst Rajubhai Joshi silently contemplated his admission, unsure exactly where the line of questioning was leading.
‘Do you really believe that she has what it takes to become a tour guide in Mumbai?’
‘Yes sir, I do.’
‘But you yourself are returning to England, correct?’
‘Yes sir, that is correct.’
‘May I ask why? I was previously informed that you wished to study at medical college here in India.’
Arun shifted his weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other; this was not really any of Rajubhai Joshi’s business, but in the spirit of honesty, which the old man had made it very clear that he valued, Arun decided to go with the truth.
‘Arthur, my father, has refused to pay for my medical college tuition fees if I stay in India.’
‘I see. And why is that?’
‘It’s … complicated, sir. He doesn’t believe that I belong here and he would prefer it if I came home.’
‘Do you believe that you belong here, Arun?’
‘Yes sir, very much so.’
Rajubhai Joshi was silent again, seemingly searching for the right words to convey his thoughts.
‘Arun, I am going to put an idea to you. I realise that it might be somewhat … alien, growing up where you have, but I feel that it is my duty as a father to at least explore the subject on my daughter’s behalf.’
‘Okay …’ Arun responded hesitantly, feeling more and more uneasy by the second.
‘As you know, I cannot allow you to court my daughter in the manner that you enjoyed previously; it is simply not appropriate for a young Indian girl to be seen cavorting around town with a man that she is not married to,’ he began disdainfully. ‘However, if you really love each other as much as you profess to, and you are prepared to stay in India, then I am willing to give my consent for the two of you to be married.’
‘MARRIED,’ Arun spluttered loudly, before he could stop himself.
Rajubhai Joshi regarded him calmly, unmoved by his outburst, and when Arun offered no additional comment or protest, he continued.
‘If you accept my proposal, I will perform the marriage ceremony here in the village at the mandir. I will provide sufficient dowry, such that you may both continue to live comfortably in the village, however, if you wish to travel to Mumbai and study, then I’m afraid that is a matter for the two of you to work out.’
‘And if I don’t marry Chandni?’ he asked, regretting the question almost as soon as it left his lips.
‘Then I would respectfully ask that once you return to England, you let her be. For you, I understand that it is of no significance to be of a certain age and remain unmarried, however for Chandni it is important that I find her a husband soon, before she is considered to be too old. And I know that she will not submit fully to anything, while she believes that there is a possibility of resurrecting her relationship with you.’
Arun’s mouth was wide open with disbelief, while he listened to Rajubhai Joshi calmly laying out his proposal. He simply couldn’t believe what he was hearing and the idea that he would have to choose between marrying Chandni and abandoning his dreams of becoming a doctor, or pursuing his aspirations but ceasing all contact with her forever, was too much for him to cope with.
‘What does Chandni think of your proposal, sir?’ were all the words that he could manage.
Rajubhai Joshi was talking about her as though she was a possession and though he was loathe to go out of his way to upset the old man, it was really only Chandni’s opinion that mattered to Arun.
‘We discussed it at great length last night and she believes that it is fair. She is a very traditional girl at heart, who only wants to do the right thing and I regret that in recent months both you and I have repeatedly forced her to choose between making one or the other of us happy. I know that she loves you, she has told me so on many occasions, but she also respects our culture’s traditions and wishes to conduct herself accordingly. I believe that it is her overwhelming preference to marry you, but she understands the sacrifices that this will involve, and accepts the need to seek an alternative pairing, if you yourself are not ready to commit to such an undertaking at this time.’
Arun weighed Rajubhai Joshi’s words in his mind; the old man was behaving as though a marriage to Chandni was a busi
ness transaction and, though it made Arun uncomfortable, it didn’t surprise him to learn that Chandni had agreed to the proposal. She was indeed a traditional girl at heart and it was one of the many things that he loved about her, yet the prospect of forfeiting his ambitions and committing to marriage at such a young age, even to Chandni, remained something that he would need to think long and hard about.
‘Take your time, Arun,’ continued Rajubhai Joshi, as though reading his mind. ‘I understand that this is not a decision to be taken lightly.’
Arun nodded in acknowledgement, unsure what else he was supposed to say.
After a long and awkward pause, Rajubhai Joshi thanked him again for saving the village and politely excused himself from the backyard. Arun stared at the space where the old man had been, subconsciously willing a sign to appear in its place that would point him in the right direction. Every time that his life seemed to be on track, the wind would change and throw him so off course that he had no option but to return to the starting line and replot his path. He had a lot of thinking to do and some tough decisions to make, and whilst it was all very well Rajubhai Joshi telling him to take his time, time was a luxury that he had simply run out of. He was due to fly back to England the following evening and if he wasn’t on that plane, then that would automatically be one decision made for him.
