Taklu and Shroom

by Ranjit Lal

  Within moments he was back with a large wicker basket around which Tinku danced and whined. As Shroom watched wide-eyed, the prime minister handed over the basket to Gaurav.

  ‘Open it, open it!’ Shroom begged.

  He did. A fat, silky black and tan Alsatian pup regarded him sleepily and licked his hand.

  He was aghast. ‘Thank you, sir.’

  Zara gazed at the little thing, enraptured, and picked it up. ‘She’s beautiful,’ she murmured. ‘She’s just like Rani…’

  ‘She’s the pick of the litter, son – I’d told you I had a pair,’ Diaz said, his eyes twinkling.

  Tinku had put her paws on his chest and was licking the little pup thoroughly, her tail blurring.

  ‘You’re a lucky fellow,’ Brigadier Diaz laughed. ‘You’ve got five pretty girls billing and cooing all over you! Maybe we should let the press in now!’

  ‘They should be here within the hour, sir; they’re on their way,’ a safari-suited man interjected. ‘They’ve been ringing up nonstop, asking if the PM was in any danger because of the floods and how he plans to spend his holiday. They got held up by the rain too… What should we tell them?’

  The PM nodded at Diaz.

  ‘Tell them that there was a situation last evening – that a rock had fallen and blocked the gorge, but the NSG commandos blew it up. But just to be on the safe side, the prime minister will be returning to Delhi shortly.’

  ‘What about the terrorists, sir?’

  Diaz cocked an eyebrow. ‘How much do they know about them?’

  ‘Well, they do suspect something. Word has gone out about the raid on the researchers’ cottage.’

  ‘Tell them they’re right: we have one man in custody on suspicion and, acting on intelligence, we’ve recovered incriminating material, and the second man is believed to have drowned while attempting to escape.’

  ‘What about the role of these youngsters, sir?’

  Diaz looked around the table. ‘Well, that depends on what they want. They are free to talk to the press, but if they decide to do that, it may be better to organize a press conference.’

  ‘Rukmini is not going to talk to the press!’ Vijaya snapped. ‘And you can tell them that the prime minister has enjoyed his brief holiday in the company of his grandniece and some of her friends, thank you very much, and would appreciate if he could have his privacy! I will not have my house converted into a Roman arena!’

  For the moment, at least, it seemed that was that.

  ‘What are you going to call her, Gaurav?’ Raveena asked at last, stroking the pup.

  He looked at them. ‘I think I’ll call her Chhoti Rani.’

  The PM’s helicopter took off shortly afterwards, just as the first of the press crew began trudging up through the forest track from Anandpur.

  Gaurav and the girls took their leave of Shroom. They knew she had to rest after the excitement of the previous day. She was reclining in a chair in the patio, looking a little wan, but her eyes were shining – she was a heroine, and she knew it.

  ‘Okay, Special Agent, I’ll be seeing you soon. Get back on your feet pronto, partner!’

  ‘I will,’ she said. Her eyes gleamed. ‘We had fun, didn’t we?’

  ‘What? Hanging over that cliff? That was fun?’ He went up to her and hugged her tightly.

  ‘Now get some rest and be good!’

  EPILOGUE

  They stayed on at Emerald Estate for another week. Zara very properly took a unit of her own, though then Gaurav insisted that he sleep there with the puppy and she share with Mihi and Kanika.

  It was a happy week that sped past. They went over to the big house every day to spend time with Shroom (as well as Raveena and Monica), who got on with Zara like a house on fire. She was stoic when they finally said their goodbyes to her. She hugged them both and looked at Zara.

  ‘I know he’s your boyfriend and you love him very much and so does he – he was drawing you with hardly any clothes on -but he’s my partner too. We’re Taklu and Shroom!’ She slit her eyes secret-agent style. ‘So you better look after him well, or I’ll come after you! If you break his heart, I’ll be after you and hunt you down...’ She made a ferocious throat-cutting gesture, then grinned and kissed Zara again.

  ‘Rukmini!’ The Geek Empress had overheard. ‘What did you say to Zara just now?’

  ‘Nothing, mein Führer!’

  ‘Okay, you two, keep in touch and take care,’ Raveena said, waving goodbye as they began the trudge back to Anandpur.

  Suddenly she went up to Gaurav and pecked his cheek. ‘I owe you that for whacking you that day,’ she said, smiling.

  ‘Okay,’ he said, remembering that she had already paid her debt once.

  Six months later, Zara visited Delhi again during the Christmas-New Year break. Luckily for her, it was still pleasantly balmy and the cold had not come down from the mountains yet.

  ‘So how’s Chhoti Rani doing?’ she asked, grinning, her curls as wild as ever. ‘Has she started listening to you?’

  Gaurav grimaced. ‘That dog! She listens only to Mihi! She understands Mihi’s baby babble perfectly. Mihi throws the ball and goes ba-ba ga-ga-da-da, and Chhoti Rani picks it up and drops it into her lap. I throw the ball, and she looks at me with her head cocked as if to say, “You threw it, so you fetch it!” She’s Mihi’s dog, no question about that. Mihi’s trying to walk using her as a prop. She’s eight months old now and behaves like a pup with the rest of us, but with Mihi she’s all grown up and mature.’

  ‘What news from Shroom? You said she’d started going to school...’

  ‘Yes, she rides Brownie to school now. Raveena and Monica are still teaching there. Vijaya Abhinav is planning to open another school nearby and put them in charge. They say Shroom’s really blossomed and grown up, and she’s got plenty of friends now. But you know, we still exchange top-secret correspondence from time to time... in invisible ink, needless to say.’ He grinned. ‘She’s a great kid!’ He took Zara’s hand and squeezed it. ‘I must have been crazy,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘Thank god I’m over all that now. But even Papa understood, especially when I told him I knew how he must have felt flying that plane – like I did when I had Shroom piggyback on that ledge.’

  A few days later, the phone rang at the Roys. Gaurav answered it.

  ‘Hello?’ He frowned, trying to place the voice. ‘Oh, hi, Raveena! Hey, cool, are you guys in Delhi?’ He beckoned Zara over, grinning. But then the smile vanished. ‘Oh, shit.’ He had turned pale and Zara looked at him in alarm. ‘How long will she be in hospital? Can we come over and see her? Zara’s here too. How’s she doing otherwise?’

  He spoke briefly and hung up. ‘That was Raveena,’ he said dully. ‘She’s down here with Monica for the holidays. But Vijaya’s brought Shroom down for some tests. They say it’s just routine, but...’

  ‘Where are they staying?’

  ‘At the Claridges. Vijaya didn’t want to stay at the PM’s residence.’

  ‘Can we go and see her?’

  ‘She’s already in hospital. She’ll be there tomorrow and probably the day after; thereafter depending on the results.’

  ‘You mean...’

  ‘With this bloody thing, you can never be sure. That poor kid. Why does this have to happen?’

  ‘Did Raveena say anything? Was there anything that made Vijaya suspect that something was wrong?’

  ‘She didn’t say. But I don’t like it. She’s been through enough shit for a lifetime.’

  ‘I know.’ Zara put her arms around him.

  ‘I’ll never forget her dangling from my arms, and saying she wasn’t scared; the look on her face – petrified yet defiant and stubborn; too proud to admit even then.’

  ‘I’ll bet she’ll come through this too.’

  ‘I hope so. I have a bad feeling about this.’ He looked at her bitterly. ‘There’s just no justice in the end, is there? Why did it have to be her of all people? She’s just a kid!’


  ‘Maybe because she has the strength and courage to fight it.’

  Gaurav was quiet and fidgety for the rest of the evening and turned in early. Zara had spent the evening stealing glances at him, trying to say the right things. In the guest bedroom just across the corridor, she tossed and turned, unable to sleep. She flipped through the book Gaurav had given her to read: The Flight of the Phoenix by Elleston Trevor.

  At about eleven, her mobile rang. It was Raveena.

  ‘Hi, sorry for disturbing you. I think Gaurav’s switched off his phone. Listen...’

  She did. ‘Okay, Raveena, thanks for calling. I’ll tell him.’ She put the phone down and huddled into her dressing-gown. Then she padded quietly towards Gaurav’s room. There were tears in her eyes.

  They were all there, outside her hospital room: Vijaya, Raveena, Monica, Brigadier Diaz, Savita, Gudiya and Zara. The expressions on their faces said it all.

  ‘She’s inside,’ Zara whispered, her face white. ‘She wants to see you.’

  Gaurav was bald and gleaming again – freshly tonsured – as he couldn’t bear the idea of seeing her in any other way.

  From the bed, her pale oval face glimmered, her cheeks were shrunken and her large dark eyes looked at him, sunk deep in their sockets. Her bald head gleamed in the bluish fluorescent light.

  ‘Hey, Shroom,’ he said going up to her and taking her hands.

  ‘Hey, Taklu,’ she whispered. ‘How’s Chhoti Rani doing?’

  ‘She’s fine, but she’s more Mihi’s dog than mine. How’re you feeling, partner?’

  ‘Okay...’ She smiled tiredly at him and her fingers clenched around his. ‘Remember the fun we had at Shroom’s Perch? Waiting for the leopard?’

  ‘Yes, we’ll go back there sometime. You get well first!’

  ‘I will,’ she whispered. But then her eyes were closing, the long eyelashes drifting down to rest, finally. Her mouth opened and closed making a perfect tiny ‘O’... once, twice, thrice, four times... and then closed with a tiny gasp. Yet again, her hand slipped out of his and she was falling, falling, falling backwards, her face vanishing into the whiteness of the void for ever.

  Gaurav awoke with a cry and a jerk. Zara stood by his bedside, looking at him, with huge concern in her eyes. She sat down gently on the bed. ‘Gaurav, wake up, what’s the matter? I heard you from outside.’ She bent towards him, and wiped the tears rolling down his face. ‘Hey, you’re crying!’

  He stared at her and shuddered. ‘I dreamt that Shroom had died. I was holding her hand and then she let go and just fell. Do you think it’s a premonition? Something might have happened.’ He stared at her. ‘Hey, you’ve been crying too...’

  ‘Yes.’ But Zara was smiling. ‘Raveena just called; she said Shroom’s tests are clear. At the moment there’s no sign of the cancer anywhere. She’s okay.’ She was kissing his tears now. ‘Salty,’ she murmured.

  Gaurav was still dazed the next morning. Zara had left him very early to return to her own room. He stumbled around like a zombie, grunting as his mother rushed off to work. His father was away flying.

  Over breakfast, Zara, looking quite zapped herself, clutched his hand under the dining table. From time to time they both stole glances at each other, trying to rein in self-conscious smiles. Mihi babbled away happily in her red highchair, as Chhoti Rani hovered close, her tail swishing. Mariamma put a bowl with a soft boiled egg in front of Mihi. She frowned and made a grab for it.

  ‘Baba, please feed her,’ Mariamma said, quickly removing the bowl from Mihi’s reach and folding her hands in supplication, her eyes twinkling. Zara’s eyebrows shot up, as Mihi chortled.

  ‘Uff,’ he grunted. ‘Okay, Mihi, here goes.’ He took a sketch pen and swiftly drew a face on the eggshell. ‘Now, Mihi, you see this fellow has been a very bad boy – he tried to cause a tidal wave and landslide at the Geek Empress’s Palace, just imagine.’

  Zara gasped. The face did indeed bear a resemblance to the late unlamented Dr Sham; the goatee and rictus smile were unmistakable even if the canines were better suited to a saber-toothed tiger.

  ‘So what should we do with such evil men, eh, Mihi the Mighty Muffin Muncher?’

  Mihi, who knew exactly what was coming, chuckled in anticipation. Gaurav picked up the table knife. Then in one swift motion, he decapitated the top of the egg. ‘“Off with his head!” the Geek Empress cried...’ and Mihi cracked up and clapped her hands.

  Zara’s face was a mixture of horror and delight. ‘You’re gross! What are you teaching her! Did Shroom put you on to this?’

  ‘Wait, it gets better.’ He picked up a spoon and plunged it into the egg. Ah, perfect – he’s all soft and mushy! A little bit of ketchup to make it more real! Come on Mihi the Mighty Muffin Muncher, here you go... slurp him up, baby!’

  ‘Eww! Really, Gaurav! Mihi baby, you have no idea what he’s doing to you!’

  The phone rang. He jumped, and Zara picked it up.

  ‘Yes, hi Monica... What?’ She listened intently for a while and then murmured, ‘okay, bye and thanks...’

  ‘What?’ he whispered. ‘What did she say? Everything’s all right, isn’t it?’

  She took his arm and smiled at him. ‘Yes, of course. They’ve just confirmed it: no sign of the cancer anywhere. She’s getting out of hospital this morning and will be visiting her greatuncle this afternoon. Monica, Raveena and Shroom are meeting us at Lodi Gardens at, er, 1700 hours this evening, at the bench near Gate No. 3. There’s a message from Special Agent Shroom. She said: “Be there!”’

  ‘We’d better be punctual,’ he told Zara, tucking in her arm. ‘Special Agent Shroom is quite a stickler for time.’

  They were there by 1645, along with Mihi and Chhoti Rani.

  ‘Look, there they are!’ Zara waved suddenly and pointed.

  He looked up. Three girls were walking down the path, looking around. He recognized Raveena and Monica at once. Behind them Savita and Gudiya followed. ‘Who’s... no – it can’t be.’

  In six months, Shroom had grown: she was taller and slender, her back straight, and she walked with the grace of a gazelle. Her hair had grown – straight, soft and dark-brown. She had a neat page-boy cut with bangs and was wearing an orange hairband. Her cheeks had the healthy apple glow of the mountains. She was dressed in an orange skirt and a striped tangerine and pink top. She had left Raveena and Monica, and had begun running towards them.

  Gaurav stood up and started forward. Suddenly she stopped.

  ‘Hey, Shroom,’ he said softly. ‘How are you, partner?’

  She looked up and blushed. ‘Hey, Taklu...’ She ran her fingers through her hair and then extended her hand. Then she simply rushed up and flung her arms around his neck and kissed him on both cheeks.

  ‘Oof!’ he staggered back, hugged her and grinned. ‘How about we take a little walk and catch up?’ He lowered his voice. ‘We have to make sure we’re not being followed, of course. I have to tell you that this morning, acting on your orders, I decapitated the evil Dr Sham and fed him to Mihi the Mighty Muffin Muncher.’

  She grinned happily and nodded.

  He turned to the others. ‘You guys don’t mind waiting here a bit... ? We have some matters – secret matters of state – to discuss.’

  He proffered his arm and Shroom took it.

  ‘Mihi the Mighty Muffin Muncher?’ Zara shook her curls in despair as Monica and Raveena started to giggle. ‘Just look at them. What a pair they make. Oh, well, I guess, come what may, they’ll always be Taklu and Shroom.’

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Thanks to Krishan for setting me off way back then, and to Neelini for making this read seamlessly.

  Taklu and Shroom

  Ranjit Lal is the writer of twenty-four books for children and adults, including The Crow Chronicles, The Life and Times of Altu Faltu, The Battle for No.19 and Faces in the Water for which he won the Vodafone-Crossword Children’s Award 2010. His stories and articles have been published in over fifty newspapers and ma
gazines in India and outside. Ranjit’s interests span from natural history, dogs and birds to photography, automobiles and humour.

  First published in India in 2011 by

  HarperCollins Publishers India

  a joint venture with

  The India Today Group

  Copyright © Ranjit Lal 2012

  ISBN: 978-93-5029-228-0

  Epub Edition (c) June 2012 ISBN: 978-93-5029-464-2

  2 4 6 8 10 9 7 5 3 1

  Ranjit Lal asserts the moral right to be identified

  as the author of this work.

  This is a work of fiction and all characters and incidents described in this book are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved under The Copyright Act, 1957. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins Publishers India.

  Cover design: Amrita Chakravorty

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