Once Upon a Curfew

by Srishti Chaudhary

  Indu greeted Supriya aunty and Balwant uncle as well as a host of their relatives, who were all excited to meet Indu. Her parents got involved in the animated chatter that surrounded the gates of the international terminal, everyone waiting to welcome Rajat. Supriya aunty had readied a pooja ki thali full of flowers and a garland, ready to welcome her son after two long years. They waited for another half an hour till Rajat walked out of the gates. The driver ran ahead to help Rajat with his luggage, and when Rajat reached them, he was smothered by the hugs and tears of a family he had not met for two years. His hair was short and cut neatly, and he wore matching trousers and a blazer, with a scarf tied around his neck. He looked much the same as Indu remembered him. He had small dark eyes, dark eyebrows and a very fair complexion. He seemed slightly shorter than Rana, but wider.

  Supriya aunty put a tilak on his forehead with two grains of rice, while he kept a hand on his hair, which wasn’t even long enough to need being held back. People took turns to kiss him on the cheek, a few more tears were shed, and then they started looking expectantly in Indu’s direction. Rajat eventually reached Indu’s parents and touched their feet. He turned at Indu. She looked at his small nose, groomed beard and polite smile. He bowed when he saw her, and Indu folded her hands into a namaste. He courteously kept a hand on her shoulder and asked her how she was doing, while everyone around them smiled.

  Everyone got into the waiting cars and the party went to Bukhara for lunch. Indu and Rajat were made to sit together. She wasn’t amused by all the giggling and excitement, but she put on a smile nonetheless. Dishes upon dishes were ordered and questions were thrown at Rajat as he struggled to answer them all, but Indu was glad for it as that meant she didn’t have to keep up the conversation. He seemed kind and sensible, and she made more of an effort to be interested.

  Her parents were seated at the far end of the table along with Supriya aunty and Balwant uncle. Seated close to Rajat was his brother, and Indu noticed that he kept a sharp eye on her, watching constantly how she reacted to whatever Rajat said. Indu didn’t say anything to him, but when she met his gaze once, he didn’t even bother to look away.

  ‘How was your flight?’ she asked Rajat courteously, conscious of his brother’s gaze on her.

  He leant towards her and answered politely, his eyes happy and smiling, ‘My flight was quite comfortable, thank you. I thought I would be tired upon landing but I feel fine now. Must be the excitement of getting to meet you.’

  Indu smiled at him but didn’t reply and instead, poked her fork at her haryali kebab moodily, suddenly wondering how he managed his food in London if he didn’t eat meat. She was about to ask him that but his parents had engaged him in conversation. On reaching home, Indu’s mother told her she’d be able to talk more to Rajat when he came to lunch at their home in two days, which he had promised.

  But now she was completely preoccupied with meeting Rana again. As instructed, she had left word with one of the waiters at Indian Coffee House that she would like to meet him again, and received a handwritten note the next day at the library. A little girl arrived on the pretext of returning a book. Just as Indu was about to tell her that the book didn’t belong to them, the girl opened the book and put a note into Indu’s hand.

  Dear,

  It is not safe for us to meet there. Meet me where I first gave you the jasmines, today at five.

  R.

  Indu crumpled the paper immediately, stuffing it inside her bag, and phoned her sister, arranging for Natty to pick her up from the hospital and bring her here. Amita was not happy about having to leave the hospital early, but told her sister she would manage somehow.

  Only the uppermost leaves of the trees were getting any sunshine by the time Indu and Amita reached the park and took the path towards the jasmine bushes. The sun was a harmless, deep orange that had started dipping lower on the horizon, and the birds were chirping louder in the last of the daylight before settling into slumber. Feeling nervous, Indu held her sister’s hand as they walked towards the bushes. Indu had decided that she could trust Natty, and had told them they were going to meet Rana, but nothing more. He had nodded understandingly.

  She was looking around for Rana when he suddenly appeared from behind a tree, his face and head covered with a scarf, sunglasses on his eyes, and his hands in his trouser pockets.

  ‘Amita,’ he said in surprise, completely forgetting Indu for a moment, and Indu saw him smile under his scarf. Her sister folded her hands in a namaste and gave him a wide grin, which quickly changed to a stern expression as she remembered what they had come for.

  ‘Is it time for disguises already?’ she asked him and he nodded, looking around suspiciously.

  ‘It’s better like this, didi, don’t you think, when we cannot see his face?’ Indu said, and Rana raised his eyebrows at her.

  ‘Are you sure you weren’t followed?’ he asked, his voice muffled.

  ‘We don’t think so,’ Amita replied, looking at Indu, taken aback by his suspicious manner.

  ‘Let’s walk,’ he said urgently, ‘but only on this path.’

  They made for a strange group—Amita in her neat sari, looking very much like a doctor, Indu in her ironed sari and shawl that lay gracefully across her shoulder, the library ID around her neck, and Rana, wearing trousers and a jacket that he seemed to have put on hastily, with a scarf and sunglasses on his face.

  ‘Have you decided to believe me?’ he asked.

  ‘I believed you,’ Indu replied coolly. ‘I just don’t like you.’

  Rana shook his head. ‘Amita, what about . . .’ he looked at Indu uncertainly.

  Indu didn’t answer and looked away, while Amita shook her head. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t tell Govind.’

  Rana nodded. ‘You’ve met Fawad, you know what a truly sincere, good man he is, but he has ended up on the wrong side of these people now, and he’s been arrested. I am under threat, anyone in contact with me is under threat. I hope that you understand the situation and can help me.’

  Amita’s face was more forgiving than Indu’s.

  ‘Of course we want to help you any way we can,’ Amita said, putting a hand on his arm, ‘we just don’t understand how.’

  The sky was a darker blue now and a group of birds flew in formation, making trails across the sky. Rana’s scarf had slipped slightly downwards and Indu could see him biting his lip, staring ahead at the path in trepidation, as her sister looked at them uncertainly.

  ‘Where do you think he could be?’ Indu asked.

  He looked at her for a few seconds, and then back at the path.

  ‘I can’t say for sure,’ Rana said, ‘but all political prisoners, everyone detained in relation to the Emergency, is known to be in Rohtak Jail.’

  ‘Rohtak Jail?’

  ‘The chief minister there apparently had to build this new, big jail for all the thousands of people arrested. I’ve heard it’s a huge cantonment, acres and acres of jail blocks, but it is still overflowing as they keep arresting more people every day.’

  ‘Really?’ Amita asked in amazement.

  ‘You’d be surprised what all actually goes on in there. If something is not in the newspaper, we think it can’t exist.’

  ‘But do you think Fawad is there?’

  ‘It’s quite likely that Fawad is there.’

  Indu looked at her sister, who seemed as disturbed as she looked surprised.

  ‘If this Rohtak Jail exists—’

  ‘It does exist.’

  ‘Well, if it definitely exists, then Govind would know about it.’

  ‘So would father,’ Indu said, and both her sister and Rana looked at her.

  ‘But you know he is not allowed to speak about all this,’ her sister said.

  She remembered a conversation they had had when she had peppered him with questions, and he had refused to answer, flatly denying some facts that Indu had heard were true. After a couple of days, her father had taken a walk with her and told her that he coul
dn’t speak about these matters as he was fighting the case for the Government of India, and the stakes were very high, and that he would be very surprised if he wasn’t on record all the time. Indu had asked him if he meant that he was being monitored, and he had told her that he was sure he was being monitored.

  In the past year, her father had turned into a very cautious man. ‘Not only our reputation,’ he had said, ‘our places in society, our very lives are at stake.’ He said little or nothing about his job and stayed away from the public eye, hardly meeting anyone outside of work.

  ‘Say he is in Rohtak Jail,’ Amita said. ‘Even then, what do you plan to do? I mean, it’s still a jail, not a visiting centre.’

  Rana said, ‘I don’t know. I thought you would already be in the know of someone who’s aware of all that is going on, and could help us. In secrecy.’

  ‘Everything you told us, we’ve heard it for the first time.’

  He sighed loudly and went back to staring at the path ahead of him.

  ‘What about Shashi uncle?’ Indu asked her sister.

  ‘Yes, he would know for sure. But Indu, there is no way he would help us.’

  Indu was quiet for a moment, before looking up at the two of them. ‘Should we ask Rajat if he can help us?’

  Amita glanced at Rana before answering, ‘Come on, that’s impossible. Why, I mean, how would he help us?’

  ‘I don’t know how. We can’t ask father because it threatens his position, we can’t ask Govind bhai because he might turn on us—the only other person I can think of is Rajat. Balwant uncle and Shashi uncle are close as well, and Rajat, well—he won’t tell on us. And also, I don’t know if it makes sense, but I remember Rajat writing to me once that his brother got into a bit of trouble once and a friend of theirs had to sort it out. If it can be done for Roshan, well, maybe it can also be done for Fawad.’

  ‘Really?’ Amita asked, her curiosity piqued. ‘What trouble?’

  ‘I never asked,’ Indu said. ‘But his brother does have this mean look about him so I don’t find it hard to believe.’

  ‘But still, I mean, why . . .’ Amita trailed off, and Rana looked away.

  ‘I’ll ask him,’ Indu said, her voice firmer. ‘There’s no harm asking.’

  Rana looked from Indu to her sister, opened his mouth to say something, and then shut it again. They walked to the road in silence.

  Natty was standing coolly outside the Ambassador, and on seeing Rana walk up with Amita and Indu, he straightened and couldn’t help smiling. Rana was amused at his reaction, but suddenly realized they were back on the road and pulled his scarf tightly around his face and neck, putting on the sunglasses, even though it was completely dark now.

  Natty raised his eyebrows at Rana’s get-up. Rana smiled back at him.

  ‘Kaise hain Natwarlal ji?’ he asked him, teasing.

  ‘I’m not Natwarlal, Rana sir, I am Natty,’ he replied, ‘or have you forgotten?’

  Rana threw back his head and laughed. ‘How could I forget?’

  ‘You seem to have forgotten a lot lately.’

  Rana hung his head, ‘So I did. But just because one is not around doesn’t mean one has forgotten, Natty. Wasn’t that one of your favourite lines from the movies?’

  Natty seemed satisfied by this and bowed. ‘Anyway, we cannot be forgotten easily. What makes you cross our path?’

  ‘To find someone who is lost—but don’t worry, Natty, I’m not only crossing paths, this is where our paths merge!’

  Natty glanced at Amita, not knowing what to say. Indu sensed this and stepped forward, opening the car door for herself.

  ‘Once the time has gone, the paths become two. And what’s gone may not come back, it’s time people knew.’

  Rana looked at Amita and Natty in shock. ‘Who taught her how to rhyme?’

  Indu slammed the car door shut, and Amita walked to the other door resignedly. ‘See you tomorrow!’ she called out to Rana, and Natty drove the two sisters home, sniggering at the wheel.

  * * *

  As the days passed, the fact of Fawad’s incarceration bore heavy on everyone’s mind. For Indu, life hadn’t changed significantly after emergency was declared, but now that Rana was back in her life, she understood the threat involved. And if she felt it so keenly merely by extension, it was hard to imagine how they had been living this past year. But at the same time, she also had to think about Rajat and getting to know him, now that he was here.

  He was polite, well-mannered and liked by everyone around him. He constantly looked to her to make sure that whatever was happening had her approval, but he still felt like a stranger to her. They hadn’t yet had much time to spend together. And Rana was here now, bringing a new set of problems.

  And now the only way to resolve these troubles seemed to be through Rajat—she had to talk to him.

  17

  Indu went about it systematically. She began asking Rajat questions about their future house, flattering him and telling him constantly that he had made a great decision to study in London. Over the next few days, she told him again and again how much she appreciated his calm nature and polite speech, so he would be amenable when she told him about Rana and Fawad and how she expected his help. She also made it clear that she was passionate about politics, but he appeared to know very little about the topic.

  She asked her mother if she might go out to dinner with Rajat one night, and her mother readily agreed, seeing it as a sign that Indu was finally making an effort. She wanted to broach the topic of Fawad’s release during the dinner. With that in mind, she dressed in one of her good saris and wore a large, red rose in her bun. Rajat picked her up, looking dapper in a grey suit, and as they stepped out, Indu felt a thrill, but soon realized it was to be short-lived. He often interrupted Indu as she told him about her life over the past two years, or else stared at her unblinkingly, wearing a smile on his face. When Indu asked for his opinion on something, he proudly told her he hadn’t heard her as he was too busy admiring her.

  ‘How is Roshan now?’ she asked him, taking a little bite of the gulab jamun sitting in a brass bowl.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, I remember you once wrote to me that he got in a spot of trouble with some friends of his, and it had to be handled.’

  Rajat’s face fell, and Indu felt bad to having to bring it up with an agenda in mind.

  ‘He’s just . . .’ Rajat said, agonized, ‘he doesn’t use his mind sometimes. Gets influenced by friends easily. He and his friends were in private club, and well, one of them fought with some other guy over something frivolous, and guns were raised. I think there was a shoot-out.’

  ‘What?!’

  ‘Yes, but . . . Roshan was definitely not involved too much. That’s why Dhar uncle could get him out, he’s a coordinator in the party. Also, I don’t know too much—I don’t partake in such behaviour.’

  His dismissive and condescending tone discouraged her from asking for his help, so she remained quiet and decided that she needed Amita when she spoke to Rajat about it.

  The following day, it was with a certain reluctance that Amita and Indu arranged a meeting with Rajat. Indu stared at him as Amita talked and realized that though he looked kind and concerned, with his glasses, he constantly looked at Indu with a panicked face. She would nod reassuringly, holding up her hands as if everything was under control. Yet, she could see Rajat getting really uncomfortable, opening the top button of his shirt in response, wiping his forehead.

  ‘I need some water,’ Rajat said when they finished, and Indu quickly got him a glass of water, wondering if he was about to start hyperventilating.

  ‘Let me get this straight,’ Rajat said, gripping the edge of the table as Indu put a hand on his arm to make sure he wouldn’t slip. ‘You want to, together with me, help your business partner—’

  ‘Former business partner,’ Indu said. Rajat paused for a few seconds and nodded. ‘Former business partner. So you want to help, I mean
, his former roommate, a fugitive, escape from prison.’

  Indu looked at Amita with a shrug; the plan definitely sounded crazier than it actually was.

  ‘Release,’ Indu said, ‘is actually what we’re hoping for. I know it seems difficult and problematic, but we have to do something.’

  ‘Indu, this man was arrested for a reason, do you even—’

  ‘And what reason,’ Indu asked immediately, trying to keep the anger out of her voice, ‘allows the government to randomly pick up innocent men in the middle of the night, keep them in prisons without a fair trial, without charges, without the benefit—’

  ‘How do you know he is innocent?’

  ‘Because I know!’ Indu replied, looking from him to her sister. ‘I know because I’ve been here for the past two years, I know what’s been going on. Rajat, this is all a sham. So many people are suffering, nothing’s been reported in the papers. People are disappearing and dying and the news is censored, just so they don’t lose power.’

  Rajat gaped at her as she said all this, glancing occasionally at Amita. ‘Why do you care?’ he finally asked. ‘It’s no danger to you.’

  Indu’s mouth fell open, and before she could say anything, Amita intercepted her. ‘Rajat, you said it yourself. Why do you care? Laws are being broken to make this happen, right, so what’s one more? What’s one more law broken if we can take care of someone known to us, and get him out of prison?’

  He scratched his head in distress. Amita shook her head at Indu; she must not lose her temper.

  ‘Look, I asked you only because you told me about Roshan, and how he could be helped out, and well, I thought you would help me. I trust you.’