by Marisha Pink
THIRTY-NINE
THE party continued in a hazy blur and Arun was unable to concentrate on any of the conversations that guests tried to engage him in. He needed to speak with Hanara and Lucky alone, to tell them about Rajubhai Joshi’s proposition and to seek their advice, but until the villagers reached their fill of food, drink and dancing, it didn’t seem as though the party would end. Arun was rapidly growing tired, frustrated and irritable, and he felt emotionally drained by the constant need to re-evaluate his options. On its own, Arthur’s ultimatum had been difficult to digest, but to have a second issued to him by Rajubhai Joshi was simply too much. This second challenge made the first seem like child’s play; he could cope with never seeing or speaking to Arthur again and he was returning to the UK to pursue his medical career, not because he feared being cut out of the old man’s life. However, the same could not be said for Chandni. He loved her and he had made a promise to her, facts that rendered the thought of losing her forever all the more cutting.
It wasn’t that Arun didn’t want to marry Chandni one day, but Rajubhai Joshi’s inflexible proposition had wide-reaching consequences, consequences that would dictate how he lived the rest of his life and consequences that he was unsure he was fully equipped to cope with yet. He was so young and he still had so much to accomplish; how could he offer a woman any of the things that a husband should provide for his wife? How would he take care of himself, let alone Chandni, if he didn’t complete his medical degree? His head began to ache from the spiral of questions and, unable to hear himself think clearly, he revived his old party trick of slipping away to the bedroom when he was sure that no-one was looking.
He lay down on the mattress and stared at the damp spots on the ceiling, desperately trying to quiet his mind, but he couldn’t keep from thinking about everything. He had achieved the impossible; he had changed Rajubhai Joshi’s opinion of him to such an extent that the old man was prepared to offer him his daughter and welcome him into the family. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity and if they married, Chandni too would be able to have the kind of relationship that she had always desired. There was no doubt in his mind that she would make a loving, doting wife, but more than that, their union would at least make the pursuit of her dreams in Mumbai a possibility one day. Yet if they didn’t marry, Rajubhai Joshi would likely marry her off to a man who shared his belief that women belonged in the home, and Arun would never be permitted to speak to, touch, kiss or hold her ever again. The prospect alone was unimaginable and Arun shuddered when he recalled how awful he had felt the day that Chandni had tried to end their relationship. It was possible that the end of their relationship was his biggest fear, greater than anything else, for he didn’t know how, or even if, he could cope without having her in his life.
Overwhelmed by his attempts to unpick the tangle of thoughts in his mind, his body shut down in protest and Arun soon drifted off into a deep sleep. The short snooze was replete with vivid, twisted dreams and it was only when he heard the faint sound of someone calling his name from afar and felt his body being gently shaken from side to side, that he was roused.
‘Here you are only. We’ve been looking everywhere for you,’ said Hanara, peering down kindly into his face.
Arun stared up at her feeling somewhat disorientated and lazily rubbed the sleep from his eyes with the backs of his knuckles.
‘Sorry, I must have dozed off.’
‘You missed half of your party and, I must say, some excellent dancing; even Mrs Satpathy had a little wiggle,’ said Lucky brightly, demonstrating his best moves as he entered the room.
He lowered himself down onto the mattress beside Hanara, while Arun eased himself into a sitting position.
‘Did you enjoy yourselves?’ Arun asked, yawning.
‘Oh very much so, it was a great celebration only,’ smiled Hanara.
‘I saw you talking to Rajubhai Joshi,’ chimed Lucky. ‘I told you that he would be impressed by what you did, isn’t it? He even came to your party.’
For a split second Arun had forgotten all about their conversation, but at Lucky’s words he felt his head fill with questions once more and a sharp stabbing pain behind his eyes caused him to wince in agony.
‘What’s the matter?’ asked Hanara, the concern apparent in her voice.
‘I … Rajubhai Joshi … he made me a … proposition.’
‘What sort of proposition?’
Arun sighed, his throat hoarse and dry from sleep.
‘He said that he would give his blessing for me to marry Chandni.’
‘Hey Bhagwan! That’s brilliant, Arun,’ cried Hanara, instantly springing to her feet and clapping her hands together with delight.
Lucky was quickly on his feet too, his crooked smile splitting his face so wide that he couldn’t form any words of congratulation with his mouth. Their excitement and enthusiasm contrasted sharply with Arun’s sobriety, as he remained seated, paralysed by the weight of the decision that lay before him.
‘Why aren’t you happy?’ queried Hanara, ceasing her revelry at the sight of Arun still motionless on the mattress.
‘We have to marry now. We have to marry now and I have to stay in India.’
‘But that’s great. This is what you wanted, isn’t it?’ asked Lucky, now as confused as Hanara.
‘Yes … no … not like this. I don’t know if I’m ready to get married yet,’ he mumbled.
‘Well then wait a while only and when you are ready then it can be arranged,’ concluded Lucky simply.
‘Lucky, Rajubhai Joshi is only giving his permission if we marry now. If we don’t … if we don’t then he said that I must leave Chandni alone so that he can find somebody else for her. But if I don’t go home now, I can kiss goodbye to my medical career.’
‘Oh,’ said Hanara, sinking back to her knees.
Always one to view things simply, Lucky still couldn’t see what the issue was.
‘Why can’t you just marry Chandni now and then take her to England with you?’
‘Ha,’ snorted Arun, ‘Arthur doesn’t even want me to stay here with my family, do you think that he’s going to welcome me home with open arms when I tell him that I’m bringing a wife with me too?’
‘Maybe …’ mumbled Lucky, feeling foolish.
‘There isn’t time anyway; I have to be on that flight tomorrow, or that’s it. We'd have to marry tomorrow and it would take months to arrange the paperwork so that Chandni could join me. I don’t even know if that’s what she would want; I don’t know if she could be so far from Rajubhai Joshi, and besides that’s not what I want for her … for us. To force her to rush her wedding and to move to a strange country when I can’t support her properly in the way that a husband should; it’s not right.’
‘Arun, what does Chandni think about all of this?’ asked Hanara hesitantly, seeming fearful of setting him off on another rant just as Lucky had done.
‘I don’t know. Rajubhai Joshi said that she had agreed to it. I can’t see why he would make that up.’
‘Why don’t you try talking with her? You can work this out together,’ she pressed gently.
‘Oh Hanara, I want to, but how can I? How can I when there isn’t any time and I’m still not allowed to be anywhere near her. I think ... I think this is a decision that I need to make on my own.’
‘I think you should stay, Arun. This is what you wanted before and now you get to be with Chandni also. It is a sign only,’ reasoned Lucky.
‘But what about my studies? You know that I can’t afford to study if I stay here. It would mean giving up on my dream of becoming a doctor ... or at least postponing it indefinitely.’
The three of them sat in silence, each trying hard to think of how the situation could be resolved, but they consistently found themselves back at square one. This time there would be no magic bullet, no one-size-fits-all solution that could satisfy everybody, and something was going to have to give. What that something was though, was anybody’s guess.
By t
he time they went to bed that night, there was a definite dampener on the mood in the house. It was supposed to be Arun’s last night with Lucky and Hanara, and it should have been filled with laughter and celebration for the family that they had become; yet Arun was quiet and subdued, his sombreness rubbing off onto his siblings. He lay awake in bed, staring into the darkness as he had done so many times before, whilst Lucky’s chest rose and fell with slumber beside him. How could Arun sleep when tomorrow he would have to make the biggest decision of his life and he had no idea which direction he should turn in? The minutes turned to hours and he desperately tried to switch off, desperately tried to shut out the thoughts that were exhausting him though not allowing him to sleep, but it was to no avail, and when the sun began to rise the following morning Arun had not slept at all. Anxious, irritable and no closer to reaching a decision, the only thing that he knew for certain was that he needed to be alone.
When Lucky and Hanara finally stirred, they found him sitting amongst the cushions, fully clothed and waiting with his backpack leant up against his legs.
‘Lucky, can you take me to Puri please?’
‘Now?’
‘Yes, please.’
‘But, we haven’t had breakfast yet. Can’t you wait a little bit? Hanara is going to make your favourite masala –’
‘Please?’ he pleaded.
‘You’re going back to England, aren’t you?’ whispered Hanara meekly, hinting at her disappointment.
‘I haven’t decided yet.’
‘Then why are you rushing back to Puri only? There is plenty of time before your train to Bhubaneswar this afternoon.’
‘Because I need to be by myself for a bit, to figure everything out.’
‘But you can do that here only.’
‘Hanara, I can’t. Please try to understand. I need space and some time away from everyone to think. I think it’s best if I head back to Puri now.’
‘And then?’ asked Lucky with trepidation.
‘And then if I decide to stay in India, it’s easy enough to come back here. And if I decide to go back to England … well then at least I’ll be able to make my plane,’ he finished solemnly.
There was pin-drop silence as tears welled up in Hanara’s eyes and she sprung forward, wrapping her arms tightly around Arun’s neck. Lucky quickly joined them and together they shared the love and comfort of a family embrace, Hanara weeping silently over their shoulders. Lucky too looked a little teary when they finally prised themselves apart, but even though he would miss them both tremendously if he persisted with his plan to leave, Arun was fresh out of tears. It had been a long and emotional journey, full of many triumphs and an equal number of tragedies; he had laughed and he had cried, and now he simply didn’t have any more left to give. Silently, he lifted his backpack onto his shoulders and made towards the front door, both Hanara and Lucky in tow.
‘Are you sure that I shouldn’t come?’ Hanara asked one last time, as they stood pitifully in the yard.
‘I’m sure. Besides, you need to get going on Lucky’s breakfast,’ he joked.
Arun hugged his sister tightly, knowing that she would never fully appreciate the extent of his gratitude for all that she had done for him.
‘I love you, Arun,’ she croaked, choking back another wave of tears.
‘I love you too, sister. Whatever happens, we will meet again, I promise.’
Hanara nodded mutely, unable to speak as she pulled away from the embrace and sobbed softly into her hands. Lucky started up the engine and once Arun had climbed in beside him, they set off along the familiar road to Puri, their spirits the lowest that they had ever been.
They passed the journey in silence, Arun’s mind mulling over the troubles that he faced and Lucky unable to find the words to make light of the situation. With an aching heart, Arun stared first at the rolling green countryside and then at the crowded city streets, taking it all in and storing it in his memory, just in case it was the last time that he made the familiar trip for a while. India had been good to him; it had taught him things and shown him things about both himself and others, and for that he would be eternally grateful.
Approximately forty minutes later, he was back outside the internet café with his bag resting at his feet and Lucky staring despairingly into his eyes. Unsure what was left to say, Arun hugged his brother to him, willing the love and thanks that he felt to diffuse from his body into Lucky’s own.
‘It has been a great many months, Arun.’
‘Yes Lucky, it has. Thank you … for everything.’
‘I told you before only, no thanks are needed from my very best brother,’ he smiled through his tears.
‘I know, but … just know that I am grateful for the day that I met you.’
‘I know. And you must know that whatever you decide, we will support you, always.’
‘You have no idea how much that means to me right now,’ breathed Arun, hugging his brother one last time.
He watched as Lucky drove away and though he felt a dull ache in his chest, he knew in his heart that he would see his brother and sister again. It might be the next day or it might be the next year, but the simple fact that it would be, unlike with Chandni, was a great source of comfort.
Contrary to what he had hoped, the city made it even more impossible for Arun to reach a decision. It was restless just like he was and provided so many different options for clearing his mind, that to distinguish between them was a complicated distraction in itself. He sat in the internet café; he walked the packed streets and markets; he watched the fishermen trawling in the sea and he climbed the steps of the Raghunandan Library to look out over the Jagannath Mandir, but still nothing. There was no definitive answer, no standout decision and no satisfactory course of action. Tired of carrying his bag on his shoulders, he returned to the internet café and secured a telephone booth at the back, just so that he could hide away.
He was exhausted, physically and mentally, and after one sleepless night and a morning of wrestling with his heart and his head, he had concluded nothing except that the situation was an impossible one. Each path had its own merits, its own pitfalls, and each time that he approached a decision, he would find himself veering away from it again, conjuring up a million excuses as to why it wasn’t the right choice. When only one hour remained before he would have to begin making his way to the train station, he did the only thing left that he could think of. He picked up the receiver and dialled the fourteen-digit number, praying that the person at the other end would be home.
‘Hello?’
‘Hi Aunt Ruby.’
‘Aaron? Is that you dear? Where are you?’
‘I’m still in India.’
‘Oh wonderful, wonderful. You’re arriving home tomorrow though, right?’
‘I don’t … I don’t know.’
‘What do you mean you don’t know dear? Arthur told me yesterday that you were.’
‘Did he also tell you that I wanted to stay and go to medical college here?’
‘No, no he didn’t mention that at all. So now you’re going to stay there? Does Arthur know?’
Arun drew in a deep breath and offloaded his troubles onto Aunt Ruby’s experienced shoulders. He told her about deciding to stay and then deciding to leave, and about being unable to decide at all now. He told her about his time in India, about his wonderful family and about falling in love with Chandni. He told her about Arthur’s ultimatum, Rajubhai Joshi’s proposition and about his need to fulfil his own career aspirations, and Aunt Ruby listened. She listened in the way that only an aunt could: impartially, without interrupting and without judgement.
‘And now I have no clue what I’m supposed to do,’ he concluded breathlessly. ‘Help me Aunt Ruby, please.’
‘I understand that this is tough, Aaron, but I can’t make the decision for you. There are some things that you just have to figure out for yourself I’m afraid.’
‘I know, but how? How do I figure this out? I’ve
been trying to figure it out for hours; I feel like my head is going to explode,’ he whined helplessly.
‘Aaron, nothing in life is ever straightforward. Getting the things that you want almost always involves having to do a few things that you don’t like, but life is about taking chances and living each day as it comes. It’s about doing what’s right for you and not what’s right for everybody else, about finding yourself and being true to that self no matter what. Only you know whether that self is being a doctor, being a husband, or both; you just need to follow your heart.’
Aunt Ruby’s words struck a chord deep within Arun, and as if by some invisible hand, he felt the weight and tension lift from his shoulders. All this time he had been desperately trying to fit himself and his future into the boxes determined by Arthur and Rajubhai Joshi, trying to determine which box would keep the most people happy, or at the very least disappoint the fewest, but if India had taught him one thing, it was that he needed to determine his own box. He needed to choose his own path, to define his own rules and to be his own person, and only then could he be satisfied by whatever the outcome may be, because the decision would have been his and his alone. In the cramped heat of the phone booth, Arun thanked Aunt Ruby for her words of wisdom and replaced the receiver on the base, knowing finally, and irrefutably, exactly what he was going to do.
