by Farhana Zia
“How’s he doing today?” I asked Mausi.
“He has kept down a few bites of soft rice,” she replied.
“You were right about the dream,” Lali told me. “He is a little more spirited and that’s a good thing, nai?”
“He probably still needs the Doctor Babu,” I said, thrusting the money into Mausi’s hand.
Her eyes widened.
“It’s for proper medicine,” Lali said.
“Arrey daiyya! Did your dear and generous mother send this?” Mausi asked.
I shook my head. I told her about the tamarind lollipop sale from start to finish and Lali filled in the details.
Vimla Mausi’s fist closed over the money. I could tell by the glistening in her eyes that she was very happy and very relieved.
There was nothing left for me to do. “I’ll be going then.” I folded my hands in respectful parting.
Mausi stopped me with a kiss on my forehead. “Your heart is better than gold, dear child,” she said. “Your mother has reared you well.”
Chapter 24
It took me two days to get my voice back. Little Bibi said I sounded cute, and that made me so happy that I hummed all day. I made extra sure that there were no mosquitoes in her bed netting.
That evening, as I made my way to the dear tamarind tree, the strong smell of coconut oil assailed my nose. Rukmani sat under the mango tree, oiling her hair.
“Oi! Come sit with me for a bit of chitchat,” she called in a lazy voice. She was humming and I took that as a good sign. I walked up to her.
“Arrey, Basanta!” Rukmani drawled. “I am so bored I could scream. Tell me stories of the Big House, nai?”
I was startled by her request. I’d been prepared for an earful about hiding behind the Gul Mohr tree or about the failed laddu mission, but the flighty girl appeared to have moved on to newer ground.
She was asking about something that was clearly out of bounds, though. “Do not discuss Memsaab and Big Master and Little Bibi with anyone,” Amma had warned me time and time again. “They are not the business of others.”
“There’s nothing to tell. Everything is just ho-hum,” I told Rukmani.
“That’s not my impression.” She coiled her hair into a tight bun with an expert twist of her wrist. “If I were to go by the size of the Big House, I’d say you get no respite from horrible Little Bibi’s demands on you, you poor sorry little scrawny thing.”
Was Rukmani feeling sorry for me? Or was she only rubbing it in? “My job’s not so bad,” I said. “And Little Bibi—”
“And Little Bibi, what? Tell, tell, nai?”
“Little Bibi’s fine,” I declared. “She’s actually quite nice and helpful.”
“Oo Ma!” Rukmani curved a finger under her nose to signify her skepticism. “Just listen to you, sticking up for precious Little Bibi!”
“I’m not!” I said. But I had jumped to Little Bibi’s defense. I had done for my young mistress what Ramu had done for me.
“These hoity-toity rich folk!” Rukmani sneered. “Oo Ma! So many stories … Would you like to hear about my memsaab?”
“Hanh! Of course I would.” Amma had strict instructions about talking about my memsaab but she had no rules about others.
“My memsaab has little bottles with water that smells so nice.”
“It’s called scent.” I knew I sounded haughty, but I kept talking. “It’s an Angrezi or Eengleesh word, as Little Bibi would say. She has rows and rows of pretty bottles on her dressing table.”
“Aiyyo! I know Angrezi too, Miss Show-off!” Rukmani snapped. “I know all about scent too, and I will let you sniff. Come!”
She extended her wrist and I got a whiff of rose petals and jasmine.
“And this … look!” She tilted back her head. Tucked behind her pullo, nestled in her bosom, was a delicate string of black beads.
“Where did you get those?” I asked.
“Aiyyo! No need to look so shocked,” Rukmani said scornfully. “It’s not like you’ve never taken a thing or two!”
“Never mind,” I said. “I’ve got something for you.”
“Oh?”
“It’s a sweet message from a sweet man!”
By now, Ramu’s message was very old, but I had promised him that I would tell her. Shame, shame! I chided myself, and then, to make myself feel better, I added, Perhaps he’s already whispered it in her ear under the mango tree.
“He said to tell you he’s saving to buy a cozy little house on the other end of town.”
“Oh, he did, did he?”
“Yes … a nice house for the girl with a swan walk. Those are his words!”
“Humph! Tell me something I don’t already know!”
Arrey daiyya! Ramu had told her! “Will there be a wedding in the busti this year?” I asked.
“Wouldn’t you just love to know?” Rukmani tossed a green guava in the air and caught it with a snap. “Run along,” she said dismissively. “Tell your little friend all the latest gossip, and while you’re at it, you might tell Ramu I will not wait forever.”
I turned to go and then stopped. There was something I had been meaning to clear up. “Oh, Rukmani,” I said. “About that night …”
There was a sharp intake of breath. “What night?”
“The night Kalu barked when someone tried to steal our stuff?”
“Aiyyo! So?”
“My father says he has a fair idea who the thief is, and if she dares try again, he’ll go straightaway to the police station.”
Rukmani flinched. “Aiyyo! Why are you telling me all this?”
“No reason.”
“It’s no skin off my nose. I don’t care what your father says!” Rukmani turned on her heel and walked away really fast, her hips swaying with a thumak, thumak.
My hunch had been right! The nervous glances, twitches, and tics were proof that Rukmani had tried to steal the ring.
“Wait!” I yelled. “I’m going to make a garland of motia flowers for your pretty neck if there is a wedding.”
But she didn’t even look back.
Chapter 25
The excitement was building for the Festival of Lights. My neighbors were readying oil lamps, refreshing rangoli patterns, and hanging mango-leaf runners. Memsaab had us scrubbing and scouring the Big House, and the grocery list for the Big Kitchen was a yard long.
Amma and I sipped our late morning tea during our break. She wrapped the end of her pullo around the rim of her brass tumbler and I used a kitchen rag to keep my fingers from getting burned.
I took a big slurp.
“So much noise!” Amma chided gently. “You sound like monsoon thunder.”
The floor was cool under my thin cotton lengha and when I ran a finger along the stone slab, there was hardly a speck of dust on it. I watched the ants shimmying under the pantry door to get to the sugar.
The little packet in my choli was growing warm from the touch of my skin. Earlier, I had sifted through my treasure box and chosen with care. There was one less thing in it now. The best thing I owned was hiding in my choli, and that was because Divali was a day for giving.
“A penny for your thoughts,” Amma said.
“I was wondering if Little Bibi will give me a Divali gift this year.”
“Why should this year be different?” Amma asked.
The ring, I thought. She might skip this year because of that.
“It’s the ring, isn’t it?” Amma asked, reading my mind.
I sucked in my breath. “Yes. That’s what I was thinking.”
“It’s an old story, nai?” Amma said gently, and she was right. Things had moved on. Little Bibi’s new ring was on her third finger and the old ring with the missing stone was on mine.
“But I still remember the way she looked at me the day the ring went missing, Amma,” I said.
“Your imagination, nothing more!” Amma said. “Her tongue is sharp but her heart is big. She absolved you in clear words. Is that not
enough?”
But a voice kept chiding me with these words: Evil girl! You took the ring! You kept it! This is why there might not be a gift for you.
Amma cupped my chin in her hand. “Let it go, child,” she said.
I nodded. I was letting Little Bibi’s eyes bruise my heart too much. That was making me forget her goodness again and again. It was not exactly fair to her. Lately, Little Bibi had been kind and nice. Still, I envied my young mistress her riches. I envied her the power of giving. “It’s nice to have a pile of money isn’t it?” I asked.
“Hmm?”
“I mean … you can give away a lot when you have a lot.”
“Not entirely true.” Amma blew in her tea. “The only ingredient needed is a big heart.”
We tipped our tumblers and drained our tea. Amma pushed herself off the floor. “There’s much good in giving,” she said. “What will you give our Little Mistress for Divali?”
“I already give more than I get.”
“Oh?”
“What about those glasses of water she makes me fetch and those comfortable nights she enjoys with no mosquitoes to bother her?”
“Daiyya!” Amma smiled. “I forgot about those things.”
The rooster crowed in the yard and the gong of the clock tower rolled in over the compound wall.
“Aiyyo!” clucked Amma. “Already so late, and so much left to do.” She went to the hearth to stoke the fire and I dusted off my lengha. I too had plenty to do.
“I’ll sweep in the Big House now,” I said, reaching for the broom.
The midday sun had driven the hens into the coop; the sparrows and crows were silent too. I threaded a garland in the shade of the motia bush, and waited for Little Bibi to return from school.
I plucked the flowers one by one. The motia released its sweet smell and my hands were soon perfumed with it. I held the blossoms to my nose and inhaled deeply. Sometimes, when the nights were unbearable, I’d place a cluster of motia close to my nose and let the fragrance slice through the heat like a knife in warm butter.
My head began to droop and my eyelids grew heavy, but each new rattle and creak made me straighten up with a start. Had my mistress come home at last?
I heard the groan of the Big Gate and my pulse quickened. Before I could stand or even take one step, Little Bibi called for me. “Basanta!”
I ran to her room, then paused in the doorway.
“Come here,” Little Bibi commanded.
My eyes widened at the parcel in her hand. Oo Maa! Little Bibi hadn’t forgotten after all! “For me, Little Bibi?”
“Open it!” she said with a smile.
My new red and green Divali dress was as lovely and soft as a baby chick! Little Bibi also gave me matching slippers!
And she gave me a book. My heart skipped a beat—didn’t she know I couldn’t read? I must have looked confused because Little Bibi announced that my reading lessons would begin soon! I was so happy I almost forgot that I had something for her too.
“Little Bibi? I have a gift for you,” I said with a grin. And from my choli, I pulled out her present.
“What’s this?” Little Bibi stared at my hand.
“Why, Little Bibi, it’s a piece of mica … the largest and clearest one I’ve found so far!”
“What does one do with it?”
What does one do with it? I hardly knew what to say.
“Why, Bibi, so many things….” I dug into my little pocket quickly for the string of flowers. “And I made this for your hair!”
Little Bibi smiled when she saw the flowers. “Yes, this I like a lot.” She pinned the motia near her right ear. “Well? How do I look?”
“So pretty, Bibi. Truly!”
“I’ll take the flowers,” Little Bibi said. “But you can keep the mica.”
I felt like a deflated balloon. How could she refuse the mica? It was the best thing in my treasure box! It was a special gift without a single hole or imperfection!
“It’s very pretty when the sunlight streams through it, Little Bibi,” I said.
“You don’t say!” Little Bibi chuckled, but she still gave it back.
She should have kept it. It was a gift.
Chapter 26
Ganga’s hopping mad!” Lali announced when she met me at the tamarind tree.
I arched my brow. Ganga was a placid boy. He never shouted or screamed, even when the buffalo kicked over the milk pail.
“Paki stole his best firecrackers from behind the bale of hay,” she told me. “He had twenty at the last count, and now he has only eight!”
“Go! Go!”
“It’s true. And he knows Paki’s the one.”
“How can he be sure?”
“He put two and two together, that’s how. Paki came to the buffalo house to ask one hundred questions about the firecrackers and now the best of the lot are missing!”
“The best of the lot?”
“Hanh. The ones that can make chickens flutter and flap and dogs run a mile!”
“Why would Paki take them? He’s already got a stash of sparklers saved up for Divali.”
“Sparklers are not firecrackers. But there’s more to it,” Lali went on. “Before he left, Paki told my Ganga something that set off an alarm in his clever head.”
“An alarm?”
“Ding! Ding! He said Bala was going to be sorry he got born at all, and so was Kalu.”
“Bala? Kalu? Wait a minute … what do they have to do with the missing firecrackers?”
“Don’t you see the connection?” Lali asked.
I thought about it for a moment and then my eyes widened. “You mean …?
“Exactly!” Lali nodded. “And Ganga agrees. So devious, nai?”
“It makes perfect sense, Lali!” I cried. “I heard him muttering when I tailed him to the buffalo house and I thought I heard him say something about Kalu! I witnessed everything from the ladder. Oh ho! That tricky rascal went back for Ganga’s fireworks behind the bale of hay with a wicked purpose in mind!”
Oo Maa! Paki was planning to sabotage the Wonder Dog Show! Now that he was back on his feet, he’d use the firecrackers to scare Kalu and leave Bala high and dry. Daiyya re daiyya! Paki’s scheme was leading straight back to mine. Still, Ganga was a silly blabbermouth.
“Ganga should have known better!” I said. “He’s a number one fool for giving away his hiding spot!”
Lali stamped her good foot. “He’s not! He’s kind and clever. He’s the one who put two and two together!”
“A fat lot of good that does Bala now!”
There was no time to quibble over the Milk Boy’s good and bad points. The Wonder Dog Show was two days away and there was absolutely no time to lose! We ran to the buffalo shed.
Ganga walked up to us with a flower in his hand, a message of love in his eyes, and a puppy-dog smile for his dear girl on his lips.
“The flower can wait, Ganga.” I pushed his hand away from Lali’s left ear. “We’ve got plenty more important things to worry about right now!”
The three of us huddled behind the hay bales to form our counterplot.
“Ganga will sneak into Paki’s hut and steal them back,” I proposed, but Lali put her foot down.
“Ganga is not a thief,” she said. “He is good and kind!”
“Perhaps w-w-we should go to Paki’s mother or c-c-con-front him directly,” Ganga ventured.
“Don’t be an idiot, Ganga!” I snapped. “He’d just deny it!”
“You don’t have to be so mean,” Lali grumbled. “Ganga’s only trying to help.”
We finally settled on plan number 4, shook on it, and went our separate ways.
The day of the Wonder Dog Show, I ran around in circles like a headless chicken. The clock in the station tower had struck nine; the show was only two hours away and there wasn’t a lot of time left for our mission.
At exactly half past nine, Lali and I went to Paki’s hut.
“Paki! Oh Paki!” we calle
d, but he didn’t answer.
“Do you suppose he’s in the field already?” I whispered. All would be lost if that were true!
“The show’s not until eleven o’clock,” Lali said. “He’d be a fool to make himself conspicuous by being there too early, nai?”
“He might be in the jamun berry tree.”
“Na. His mother would kill him for sure!”
“You are right,” I said. “Let’s yell louder.”
“Paki! Oh Paki!”
And this time, Paki came out with a big scowl on his face. I eyed the suspicious bulge in his pocket and exchanged a knowing look with Lali. Oh ho, our eyes said. What do you suppose is hiding there?
“What do you want?” Paki demanded. “Better get on with it. I have important things to do today.”
“Your foot’s mended nicely, thanks to the good Lord Rama,” Lali said sweetly.
“No thanks to Miss Destruction here.” Paki glowered at me. He had apparently forgotten that I had played a pretty big part in helping his foot mend.
“We have an important message from the Milk Man,” I said. “Something about a handsome reward for you.”
Paki was all ears. “What reward?”
“Oh, a consolation prize for the kite war.”
“Hmm. I’ve been told about a reward for the winner,” Paki said.
“Oh ho! Who told you?”
“Never mind, nosy girl! You say there’s a consolation prize too?”
“Hanh! I believe it’s a large cash prize to keep the competitive spirit going. Sounds mighty suspicious, if you ask me.”
“A large cash prize?”
Paki had taken the bait.
“A great big one!” Lali said.
“And oh yeah … one more thing,” I told him. “You are to go right away to the buffalo shed because he said it’s a one-time deal, a take-it-or-leave-it kind of offer.”
“Did he say how much money?”
“Not exactly, but it’s a bundle, I’m guessing,” I said. “Ganga said something about it being enough to buy a lifetime of kites.”
