“Yes,” Rajni said.
“Try Shirina Shergill,” Jezmeen suggested.
The woman glanced at her screen and shook her head. “We only had two appointments today and they were both over and done with by lunchtime.”
Over and done with. The receptionist was so cavalier about the procedure. “She was supposed to be in here now,” Jezmeen said. “If something has happened, we need to know about it.”
“There was no Shirina here,” the receptionist insisted.
She had clearly been instructed to pretend that Shirina had never walked in through those doors. “I know that certain procedures are off your books, but this is a very serious matter. She didn’t want to do this,” Jezmeen said. “Her husband’s family made her.”
If it was possible to be both irritated and interested, the receptionist’s expression was a perfect combination of the two. “They made her? Why?”
“They’re old-fashioned,” Jezmeen said. “It’s a stupid preference they have. Look, we know she’s here and we know why she’s here, so let’s just cut the charade.”
“Or else we can go back there,” Rajni said, nodding to the glass doors.
“If you trespass, I will call the police,” the receptionist said.
“We should be the ones calling the police,” Rajni retorted. “You have some nerve, performing an illegal procedure and then threatening to have us arrested.”
“What’s illegal about it?” the receptionist asked. “If it’s more convenient for somebody to live the rest of their lives without—”
“More convenient?” Jezmeen said. “Is that how you see it?”
“Yes, more convenient. Women especially are much more confident after undergoing this procedure. Their husbands are also happier. Everything is clearer for them. That’s probably why your sister’s in-laws made her do it.”
Confidence? That was a new one. Jezmeen knew there were many reasons that women were persuaded to give up baby girls but confidence was not one of them. The eye on the wall fixed her with an intense, singular stare. It was a strange choice of portrait for a gynecologist’s clinic, where patients awaited being uncomfortably exposed.
“That’s it, I’m going in there,” Rajni said. She marched past the front desk, ignoring the receptionist’s protests, and pushed the glass doors.
The receptionist went after Rajni, shouting about trespassing. Jezmeen picked a name card off the desk.
Dr. Chopra Eye Centre
Vision Care and LASIK Surgery
Jezmeen was about to call out Rajni’s name when she saw her being led back out the glass doors by the elbow. Rajni shook the woman off. “It was a bit excessive, grabbing me like that,” she huffed after they made their apologies and scurried out of the clinic. “I would have left of my own accord after I saw the vision-testing chart.”
In the car park, Tom Hanks was wiping down his mirrors. He didn’t notice them emerging from the building. The traffic was so heavy now that the roundabout looked like another car park.
“What do we do now?” Jezmeen said. Rajni could sense her panic as she paced the footpath outside the shopping center.
“Let’s try the FindMe app again,” Rajni suggested. Maybe Shirina had enabled it.
“Did we just get the address mixed up?” Jezmeen looked at the card pieces again. “I think the numbers go up in that direction. Thirty-two . . . thirty-four . . .”
“Thirty-six!” Rajni shouted, spotting the clinic sign at the end of the row. “Let’s go.”
She hurried, ignoring the throbbing pain in her ankle. Mum, I’m sorry it turned out to be such a disaster, she thought as she and Jezmeen arrived at the clinic’s entrance. She had wanted at least one trip to India—if not with Mum, then in her memory—to go as planned. She knew that Mum wanted this for her as well. Although it wasn’t written anywhere in the letter, Rajni believed now that Mum wanted her to remember India differently from that place where bad memories were buried.
At the glass doors, Rajni and Jezmeen hesitated. Neither knew how to do this again. It was as if they had spent all of their energy on that last public scene. “Go on,” Jezmeen said, nudging Rajni.
“We’re sure this is the right place?” Rajni asked, looking up again. There was the sign: RESTORATION ROAD WOMEN’S CLINIC. Through the glass, Rajni eyed the receptionist, who sat under a large framed photograph of a pink orchid. There were a lot more people in this waiting room, and Rajni didn’t want to disturb them. For some reason, she decided to knock on the door. The receptionist looked up and beckoned them in.
“Uh, hi, hello,” Rajni said when they entered. She nodded at all of the people in the waiting room as well, as if they were part of the conversation.
“We’re looking for our sister,” Jezmeen said, marching to the front desk. “Shirina Arora. She’s here against her will and WE’RE NOT LEAVING TILL SHE’S OUT OF THERE! SHIRINA, COME OUT! SHIREEEEENAAAA!”
Too much, Rajni thought, but she had to support what Jezmeen was doing. She knocked a pen off the desk and scowled at the receptionist.
“Madam, there is no need to shout,” the receptionist said, standing up. “You are scaring the other patients. Have a seat and calm down, or I will call security.” She glared at Rajni. “And pick up my pen, please.”
“Yeah, sorry about that,” Rajni mumbled. She picked up the pen and replaced it on the desk, next to a nameplate which read Manjinder Bhatti. There was a couple sitting on the couches who huddled together, watching the scene unfold. The woman held her round belly protectively and her husband stood up for a moment, then sat down, then stood up again. “Look, we’re very worried about our sister, and we need to speak to her right away. I think she’s with Dr. Wadhwa. Would you please give him a call and let her know that we’re here?”
Manjinder regarded Jezmeen and Rajni as if she was trying to decide if they were from a prank television show. The husband took a seat again and clasped his wife’s hand reassuringly.
“Your sister’s name?” Manjinder asked.
“Shirina Arora,” Rajni said.
“Oh, that patient has been and gone already.”
“Left? Like she walked out of here?”
“About ten minutes ago, yes.”
They were too late. Rajni gripped the edge of the receptionist’s desk to steady herself. Jezmeen buried her face in her hands. Rajni heard a sob and wanted to comfort her, but she was too filled with disappointment to offer any words of solace. She thought about the last time she saw Shirina in Amritsar. In her memory, that round belly was so obvious, now that she knew what Shirina was hiding.
Manjinder cleared her throat. “When you see her, can you give her this form, please? She was supposed to sign it and I think she forgot. She was out of here so quickly.”
“Pardon? Does that mean . . . ?” Jezmeen asked. She turned to Manjinder. “Wait, did she have the procedure?”
Manjinder shook her head. She pointed at her screen. “It was a very quick appointment. She left after fifteen minutes.”
They clutched each other’s hands and Jezmeen let out a little whoop of joy.
“Where did the taxi go, do you know?” Rajni asked.
“No idea,” Manjinder said apologetically. “You can’t call her?”
Rajni shook her head. That image of Shirina saying good-bye to her at the hotel stayed in her mind as she and Jezmeen walked out of the clinic. What would she say to Shirina the next time she saw her? Would they see her again, or was this Shirina’s final gesture to shut the door on their family? The pain that accompanied this thought felt all too familiar—it was like Anil saying that nothing could keep him and Davina apart. Whatever happened next, Rajni knew she had to fix things with Anil. She wished she could board that plane now and just see her family again.
Tom Hanks was nowhere to be seen, but the car was parked. Rajni took out her phone to text him. “Why do you think she left? Do you think she knew we were coming?” Jezmeen asked while they waited on the curb.
&nbs
p; “What do you mean?” Rajni asked.
“Do you think she knew we were on our way, and she decided to back out before we showed up to stop her from doing the procedure?”
“I don’t know,” Rajni said.
“Or maybe she walked out and decided not to do it?” Jezmeen asked hopefully.
“Maybe.” Rajni sighed. “But either way, she’s not coming back here. Let’s just look for a hotel in Chandigarh and stay here for a day. We can wait for a call from Shirina, or I’ll try calling Sehaj again.”
She was about to put her phone back in her bag when it buzzed. FindMe: Shirina is online.
“Oh my god,” Rajni said. She tapped her screen and saw Shirina’s little dot on the screen. It hovered over Rajni’s and Jezmeen’s dots. She was here? Rajni spun around. At her desk in the clinic, Manjinder was sitting very still, watching them.
“She’s in there,” Rajni said. “She’s in there, Jezmeen, quick!”
As they wrenched the door open again, Manjinder stood up and backed herself against the door that led to the doctor’s room. “Madam, we are under strict orders from the Arora family—”
“I will call the police,” Jezmeen warned Manjinder. “I will tell them that you are holding my sister against her will. Open the door now.”
Manjinder pressed her back against the door and began to shout for help. The couple in the waiting room hurried out of the clinic, leaving Rajni, Jezmeen, and Manjinder alone. They tried to push past her but she was surprisingly strong despite her lithe figure.
“SHIRINA!” Jezmeen shouted, still struggling to get a grip on the doorknob. “SHIRINA, COME OUT!”
“Madam, I’m just doing as I’m told,” Manjinder pleaded as Jezmeen tried to pry her fingers from the doorknob.
“What exactly were you told?” Rajni asked.
“The doctor said Mr. Arora called after he heard that you two were coming, and he said not to let you in under any circumstances. He said you were dangerous, and that your sister doesn’t want to see you.”
Sehaj must have heard Jezmeen when she burst into the hotel room while Rajni was on the phone with him. “Look, if you let go of the door, we’ll take full responsibility. We’ll say we charged in and you didn’t have a chance.” They’d probably say that anyway, Rajni thought, because they weren’t getting anywhere with trying to overpower this woman.
“I can’t,” Manjinder said. “Please, I’ll lose my job.”
There was some movement in the hallway. Rajni saw it first—the opening of a door, a head peeking out curiously and disappearing. That’s enough, she thought. After hitting Jezmeen in the hospital that time, Rajni had been horrified and disgusted with herself, but this was different. She lowered her shoulder and barreled into Manjinder like a bull chasing a waving flag, startling her enough to make her lose her grip on the doorknob. Jezmeen flung open the door and they hurried inside. Manjinder chased after them, shrieking and grasping the belt loop of Rajni’s jeans to pull her back. Jezmeen got ahead first. She tried the doorknob frantically and then pounded on the door with her open palms. “SHIRINA!” she shouted. “SHIRINA, CAN YOU HEAR US?”
Rajni felt the weight of Manjinder’s entire body toppling her to the ground. Her face smacked hard into the floor and a ringing noise filled her ears. All she wanted to do was try to shout encouragement to Jezmeen, but the fall seemed to have knocked the sound out of her windpipes.
She watched helplessly as Jezmeen continued hollering and banging on the door. Manjinder scrambled to her feet to try to pull Jezmeen away, but it was too late. The door opened and out came Shirina, her eyes wide with surprise. When she collapsed into Jezmeen’s arms, Rajni burst into tears.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Day Seven: Trek to Hemkund Sahib
This will be the most difficult and rewarding part of your journey. I never had a chance to trek to Hemkund Sahib when I was healthy, and it was the first place that came to mind when the doctors told me that I was terminally ill.
The temple at the top of the mountain is the most elevated Sikh gurdwara in the world. People who have been there have described it as a trek to heaven. Walk steadily, and meditate on the knowledge that your ability to move, climb, and connect with nature are all temporary. What’s left, as your body and mind slow down, is your spirit. You will feel an appreciation for your body, for each other’s support as you undertake this physical and mental challenge.
Hemkund Sahib sits near the calm and sacred waters of Lokpal Lake. Encircled by seven snow-clad peaks, this glacial lake is where our tenth Guru meditated and achieved spiritual unification. This is the place where my journey will end. I would like my ashes to be scattered in this lake so that I can rest in the same place where our Guru became one with God.
The view from the hotel window was of short, flat-topped apartment blocks. Satellite dishes bloomed out of their windows. Below, the muted whir of constant traffic circulating.
If Shirina had gone on the trek, if everything had been completely different, she’d be stepping cautiously along a pebble-strewn path, the view ahead misted by the mountain fog. The thin air and the jagged mountain peaks would certainly feel like another realm. Instead, here she was in Chandigarh, in a hotel suite that Rajni had booked for the three of them on her phone as Tom Hanks drove them away from the clinic, yesterday offering platitudes from films like Forrest Gump and Big. Anything to stop Shirina from crying, he probably thought, as he reminded her that life was like a box of chocolates. She hadn’t stopped crying for nearly the whole journey—it was a release of all her bottled-up outrage and fear from the past few weeks.
This hotel was situated in a central part of town cluttered by shopping malls and billboards. The suite had adjoining rooms for each sister, but Shirina noticed that Rajni had deliberately opened the door that connected her room to Shirina’s, and left it ajar. “Call if you need anything,” Jezmeen said anxiously, after wandering into Shirina’s room to borrow her hair dryer. She had lingered at the doorway for a while before leaving.
“You’re okay, right?” she asked, eyeing Shirina’s place on the chaise longue near the window. Shirina nodded and waved her off, trying not to let her annoyance show. She understood why her sisters were concerned, but they didn’t have to tiptoe around her. Now that they knew about Shirina’s pregnancy and her marriage, they acted as if she was full of untold secrets.
“Did Sehaj ever . . . ?” Rajni asked at one point in the drive over here, before blinking and looking away.
“He never hit me, no,” Shirina said. “His mum sometimes jabbed me, though. She snatched my phone from my hands as well.”
Jezmeen was furious for Shirina. She wanted to call Sehaj and have a word with him. “How could he put you through this?” she asked. “He had some bloody nerve, warning the doctor about us like that. I’m not afraid of him, you know. I could call him right now and tell him what I really think about him.”
But Sehaj was full of fear too. Shirina knew that if Jezmeen called him, he’d nervously excuse himself and hang up. Sending her to India to have an abortion was like every other move he made—staying at the office late to avoid hearing about Shirina and Mother’s latest conflict, staring at his phone at the dinner table when Mother was giving Shirina a hard time about the quality of her cooking. He was too afraid to deal with Mother’s disdain for Shirina, so he distanced himself from Shirina, as if she was the problem. After handing Shirina that card at the airport, and telling her she couldn’t come back, he had walked away quickly to avoid another argument.
Shirina supposed she had once mistaken Sehaj for a person with more power over her as well. She only began seeing things differently after the receptionist knocked on the doctor’s door and told him that there was a call from Australia. “She says it’s urgent,” the receptionist said before the doctor threw a quick look at Shirina and hurried out of the room. Knowing it was probably Mother calling, Shirina stood up then, clutching her bag to her chest. She had been asking every question she could
think of, hoping Dr. Wadhwa would understand her doubts and sympathize, maybe call the whole thing off. Returning from the phone call, the doctor mentioned again being friends long ago with Mr. Kamal Arora, Sehaj’s father. He clearly wanted Shirina to know he couldn’t say no to them. There were obligations and favors that undoubtedly extended beyond the moral code of his profession.
Although Shirina was standing at that point, she couldn’t bring herself to walk out. She still felt that she needed somebody to tell her it was okay to leave. Fear flipped her stomach and kept her rooted to her seat, her hand squeezing around her phone. She noticed a window had popped up: “Are you sure you want to disable FindMe?” She hadn’t confirmed it. She pressed no and made herself visible. It was really only when Shirina heard the commotion outside the doctor’s office that she sprang into action and rushed to the door. It didn’t occur to her that the voices outside were Jezmeen’s and Rajni’s, just that somebody was providing a distraction outside.
Somebody was knocking on her adjoining door now. “Come in,” she called. Rajni poked her head in. “You all right?” she asked for the hundredth time that day. “Do you need anything?”
“I’m okay,” Shirina said. Perhaps she shouldn’t be sitting so close to the window—it probably made Rajni nervous even though it was sealed shut. “Thank you for organizing this room again, by the way. It must have cost a fortune at the last minute.”
Rajni waved the comment away. “It’s fine,” she said. “The more important thing is that you’re comfortable. How’s the nausea?”
“Comes and goes,” Shirina said.
Rajni stepped into the room and sat on the edge of Shirina’s bed. She smoothed out the covers even though they were stretched taut over the mattress. The room smelled faintly like rosewater from the honeymoon suite on the same floor.
“What would you like to do today, then?” Rajni asked brightly. “We should start with brunch. I saw that there are some nice restaurants nearby.”
The Unlikely Adventures of the Shergill Sisters Page 30
