They had been friends ever since they were babies. When they were about five, they would sneak out a couple of Ma’s saris, wrap them around themselves and pretend to be Ma and Mummum. Then, when they were about a year older, mothers were replaced by the princes and princesses from the fairy stories that Nani used to tell them at bedtime. Vicky would always play the prince and come to rescue Mili from the clutches of the wicked witch. One of Mili’s dolls would be the witch, or on the rare occasion, Uday. Mili was content to play the sad forlorn princess, singing mournful songs. She had the voice of a cuckoo, Nani used to say.
She also used to say the two of them were Kishan and Sudama in their previous birth. But then Kishan didn’t leave Sudama and disappear into oblivion like Vicky had. Or did he? According to the Hindu scriptures, the two were inseparable in school. And even when they met each other again after years, Krishna knew exactly what ailed Sudama and showered his friend with wealth and prosperity. Maybe Vicky was up there with Nani, waiting for her to join them? And then they would be reborn again … together …
‘There you are.’
On hearing the familiar voice, Mili turned around. She started to get up. ‘Good evening, sir …’
‘No, no, keep sitting,’ Raven said, sitting down on the grass, beside her. ‘You mustn’t go wandering off on your own like this. It’s not safe.’
Mili did not answer. She picked up a long stick lying next to her and began to stir the still waters of the lake with it, making little ripples.
‘I was speaking to Miss Perkins and Mrs Nunes a few minutes back.’
Mili shot him a questioning look.
‘Yes, Victoria’s mother had come to my office. She’s leaving in a couple of days.’ He collected some pebbles in his hand and threw them one after another into the water, making little whirlpools in the process. ‘She told us she had decided to close the chapter on Victoria’s rape and begged us to do likewise,’ he finally said, as he threw one last pebble into the lake, as hard as he could.
‘What? She’s not going to take that man to court? Is she out of her mind?’
‘I’m not surprised,’ said Raven, averting his gaze. ‘Don’t forget, she’s a widow. And she has two other daughters to think of. If she filed a case, everyone would know it was her own brother-in-law who had committed the heinous act. Who would marry her daughters after such a scandal?’
‘No!’ Mili shouted vehemently, shaking her head. ‘Her reluctance to go to court is not because of her daughters. She doesn’t want to lose face. After all, she’s always been so pompous and a show-off.’
Raven spoke quietly. ‘Malvika, hurling abuses at Mrs Nunes is not going to bring Victoria back.’
But Mili wasn’t listening. ‘What reason is she going to give everyone for the suicide?’ she asked.
‘Low grades in exams,’ replied Raven.
Mili laughed. A hollow, mirthless laugh. ‘Vicky committed suicide because she got poor marks? Do you think she ever cared about marks? That is so ludicrous. She’d never kill herself for that. Low grades indeed!’
She looked at Raven as he got up. He stood with his hands in his pockets, feet slightly apart, looking askance. Mili continued speaking. ‘There we were, almost expelled from school for an innocent picnic at night, while this man rapes a girl half his age and is allowed to roam free? And she was supposed to be his ward? He was her local guardian!’
‘True. But we are both helpless, Malvika. Unless you’re able to cajole Mrs Nunes to go to court. Or force the police to lock him up. You are forgetting George is a powerful man. He’s not only English, but also the Collector of Kishangarh.’
‘You know, sir, if Vicky was English or her father still alive, and the man who raped her was an Indian, he would have been hanged for sure. Forget rape, he would have been killed like a dog even if he had just kissed her.’
Raven did not reply but merely stared at her. She saw something in his eyes that she could not fathom. He spoke after a long time, his voice barely audible.
‘Let’s go back,’ he said. ‘It’s getting dark.’
‘Sir, you don’t understand what I’m going through right now. And even if you did, you don’t care. After all, you never did like Vicky and me.’
Again, no reply. Mili’s hands curled into fists as she watched him stride towards his car, get in and start the engine. He gave her a slight nod. Reluctantly, she walked to the car and slid into the passenger seat. He reversed into the main road before slanting a sideways glance at her. They drove back to her hostel in silence.
When they reached the hostel, Raven Sir switched off the engine and turned to face her. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said softly. ‘I shouldn’t have spoken so harshly. But what you said back there isn’t true.’ His Adam’s apple moved and his voice dropped down to a whisper. ‘I do care. Very much so. I guess that’s why I got upset. It wasn’t you I was angry with. I was angry with myself. For not being able to help my own student.’
‘Don’t worry, Raven, sir, we’re used to your scolding by now,’ said Mili.
Raven grimaced slightly. ‘I think I’ve scolded you two more than all my students put together.’ He looked down. ‘But this time, I’m sorry,’ he said softly.
‘I’m sorry too,’ replied Mili. ‘It’s just that … I feel awful. My dearest friend has died and I can’t do anything about it. Not a thing. You have no idea what that feels like.’
‘I do. Only too well,’ Raven said quietly. ‘I felt the same way when my father walked out of my life. And I couldn’t do anything to ease my mother’s pain … Sometimes, nothing is in our hands.’ He sighed. ‘Believe me, if it was up to me, I would move heaven and earth for you. I would never let my students down.’
Swallowing the lump rising in her throat, Mili stepped out of the car. ‘Yes, sir,’ she murmured. ‘Thank you, sir; goodnight, sir.’
‘Before you go, promise me something?’
Mili raised a brow.
‘Promise me that you will start attending classes from tomorrow. I haven’t seen you in class for the last two weeks.’
‘Yes, sir, I will.’
‘Promise?’
Smiling slightly, Mili replied, ‘Yes, sir, I promise.’
‘Good.’ With that, he drove off.
Mili looked at the road for a long time after the car could be seen no more. Then with a sigh, she dragged her feet towards her room.
Raven had dinner on Mother’s insistence, but ate very little and in silence. And as soon as he was able to, he excused himself from the table. He was grateful that, although Mother gave him a questioning look when he threw down the serviette and pushed back his chair, she chose not to say anything or follow him to his room.
He sat down at his desk and tried to check some of his students’ assignments but he could not concentrate. He kept thinking of Malvika with a tenderness he had not known before. It had hurt him to see her hurting so.
He had been taken aback by all that she said. It seemed her friend’s death had made her grow up suddenly. How solemnly she spoke. He sighed. He missed the old Malvika. Always up to mischief with that Victoria, always in trouble, fluttering around like a butterfly. Her words kept coming back to haunt him. ‘If Vicky was English …’ She was right. If George had been an Indian, he would have been hanged … that’s for sure. Raven picked up the dome-shaped glass paperweight, twirled it like a top on his desk and stared at it.
He recalled what had happened earlier that day, when Mrs Nunes had come to his office.
‘I’ve never liked George much. And for what he did to my poppet, I’ll never forgive him,’ she said. ‘He snuffed out my daughter’s life, the most precious thing in the world for me, and for that may he rot in hell.’ She paused and looked down at her hands. ‘But I’ve decided not to take him to court. And I wish to hush this matter completely, once and for all.’
‘Are you sure, Mrs Nunes?’ Raven had asked.
‘What purpose is dragging George to court going to serve? It’s not going
to bring my Victoria back to life, is it?’ Her voice shook as she spoke. ‘Everyone will spit at us when they come to know that Victoria’s own uncle raped her. I have two other daughters. One has just got engaged. To an orthodox Catholic family from Kerala. They would break off the engagement in an instant should they come to know the details surrounding Victoria’s death.’
‘I understand,’ Raven had said. ‘What do you want me to do?’
‘I have spoken to Prof. Keating as well as Principal Perkins and they have promised no one shall come to know about the rape. I want you to do the same.’
‘Rest assured, Mrs Nunes, the circumstances surrounding Victoria’s death shall go with me to my grave.’
‘One more thing, Prof. Raven …’ She hesitated.
‘Yes?’
‘I believe, in the absence of the warden, you are in charge?’
‘You’re right. The warden has gone to England for two months, possibly three. The political unrest in the country is making a lot of the English insecure.’
‘Malvika is also like my daughter. I don’t know how to break this news to her. Will you do it for me?’
‘You have entrusted me with a very difficult job, Mrs Nunes, but yes, I’ll speak to her.’
Raven took out a cigar and lit it. He drew in a long puff and sighed.
Speak to her he did. He knew she’d get upset but what he didn’t realise was how affected he himself would be after speaking to her. He used to despise her and Victoria because of their juvenile behaviour and careless attitude towards studies. But today … the way Mili’s eyes welled up with tears and yet the conviction with which she spoke – his heart went out to her. She looked so lost and lonely, so vulnerable. He felt like kicking himself; here was his student, his ward – miserable and in pain – and he was unable to do anything to ebb her sorrow.
It was Janamashtami, the birthday of Lord Krishna, after whom Kishangarh had been named. Raven stopped his car for a moment, as he passed Gopeshwar temple. It was beautifully decorated with flowers today. The statue of Krishna had been washed and adorned with new clothes and jewellery. Legend had it that when Krishna was a cowherd, one of the calves in his charge gambolled off towards the hills of Uttaranchal. Krishna ran after it, until he reached Kishangarh. Tired from the long chase, he sat down to catch his breath and began playing his flute. It was on that spot where he had rested that Gopeshwar temple had been built. And it is said that even today, when the north wind blows and rustles through the leaves of the trees in Kishangarh, you can hear Lord Kishan playing on his flute.
Raven listened. Could he really hear the flute? He shook his head and grinned at his own foolishness. Since when had he started believing in all this nonsense? He started the engine and slowly made his way to Jeolikot.
He thanked Sister Therese as she pointed to the green in front of the school building where the children were playing. He smiled as he espied Vidushi, hopping about on one foot, trying to catch the children fleeing from her. Her hair had begun to grow. Though it was still short and looked like a boy’s, she looked much healthier as well as happier. She turned around as a shadow fell across her.
‘Sir,’ she said, a smile instantly lighting her face.
‘How are you, Vidushi?’ Raven asked with a smile. He pointed to the children she was playing with and who were now staring at him curiously.
‘Sir, they also live here. Older students like me help the sisters take care of them.’
‘I see,’ said Raven, shooing the children off with a wave of his hand. Then turning to Vidushi he said, ‘Walk with me. I wish to speak to you.’
‘Yes, sir,’ Vidushi replied, walking alongside him.
‘Are you happy, Vidushi?’
‘Very,’ Vidushi replied. ‘And sir …’ she gushed.
‘Yes?’
Raven narrowed his eyes as he looked at her. She was blushing.
‘Nothing, sir,’ she giggled.
‘Come now. You can tell me.’
‘But what if you get angry, sir?’ Vidushi replied, wringing her hands nervously.
‘I don’t believe an angel like Vidushi can ever do anything wrong,’ Raven replied with an affectionate smile.
‘Sir,’ she replied, looking down. ‘There’s a boy in MP College. He is … a little … fond … He has proposed to me.’
‘Jatin?’
Vidushi nodded, continuing to look down.
‘That’s wonderful news.’
‘But I’m a widow,’ Vidushi said, her smile vanishing. ‘How can I marry?’
‘I’ll see what I can do.’
‘But sir, I don’t wish to convert …’
‘Of course not.’
‘But …’
‘Vidushi,’ said Raven with a frown. ‘I recall you as being a bright student whose essays were always brilliant. Do you not know, starting each sentence with a “but” is not good English?’
‘Sir, bu—’
Raven put a finger on his lips. ‘Don’t worry. Leave it to me. I’ll take care of it.’ He bent down and picked up a broken pine cone. It looked like a wooden rose but smelt of pine. Giving it to Vidushi, he said, ‘Congratulations.’ Then he smiled, winked at her and left.
‘Someone here to see you, Mili baba,’ announced Bahadur. Mili wondered who it was as she went into the parlour. It was Mrs Nunes.
‘I’m going back to Mohanagar tomorrow,’ she said. ‘I wanted to see you before I left.’
Mili sat down quietly beside her. ‘I can’t believe she’s no more,’ she said softly.
Mrs Nunes looked down. ‘Yes, I know,’ she whispered. ‘When I saw her body … I couldn’t believe it was her. To see someone who was always full of life, still and lifeless …’ She paused as she wiped the tears running down her cheeks with the back of her hand. ‘Why, when she was just a month old, she rolled off the sofa—’
Mili looked straight ahead at the painting of the angels playing the harp. ‘And yet you do not want to get her justice.’
Mrs Nunes looked sharply at her. ‘Mili?’
Mili continued to look straight ahead. She shook her head slowly. ‘You’re not Vicky’s real mother. You must be her stepmother.’
‘What are you saying, Mili?’
Mili looked at her, her face contorted with anger. ‘If you were really her mother, you would not rest in peace until you had avenged your daughter’s death,’ she said, her voice rising.
‘What can I do, my child?’ said Mrs Nunes, her eyes brimming with tears. ‘What can I do?’ she whispered in a defeated tone.
‘You can drag that … that man to court,’ said Mili. She could not bring herself to say his name any more.
Mrs Nunes looked down at her hands. ‘I met George the other day. He said to me that he hasn’t seen Victoria for almost two months. I reminded him that Victoria had called me up from his house that night. He said she must have called from elsewhere. It was most certainly not from his house.’
‘But what about the entry in the register?’ said Mili.
‘That’s not enough, my child. After all, didn’t you and Victoria put in a similar entry, the night you went off for a picnic? Besides, you two didn’t exactly endear yourselves to the warden or to any of the other teachers, did you?’ She stroked Mili’s head gently. ‘There’s no point going to court. None at all. We can’t prove anything.’ She walked over to a table that stood at the end of the room and poured herself a glass of water.
Keeping her face averted, she spoke again. ‘Don’t forget, Mili, I’m an Anglo-Indian. On the fringe of society. The English make fun of us, the Indians hate us. It has taken me a long time to earn some respect. And Michelle is engaged to be married. Into a very good family. Do you think they would want to marry into a family where the uncle is a rapist?’
‘You never did love Vicky. It was always the other two. You were never there for her. Most of the time she was with me. In the palace. You were always too bus—’
Mrs Nunes put a finger on Mili’s lips. Mil
i darted an angry look at her. Mrs Nunes cupped her face with her hands. Mili looked down. ‘Look at me, Mili,’ she said. Mili slowly looked up into Mrs Nunes’ eyes. Tears pricked her eyelids.
‘I know you didn’t mean that, my child,’ said Mrs Nunes quietly. ‘I know how you hurt.’ She pulled Mili to her bosom. Mili could not control her tears any more. The two of them clung to each other and sobbed uncontrollably.
She spoke after a while. ‘As a mother, I shouldn’t say this – but of the three, Victoria was my dearest. She was my baby. I felt guilty not being able to spend any time with her because of my work. The other two would bully her. I would tell her when she came crying to me – shame on you, crying like a little girl. You’re the man of the house. Go and scold them, hit them back.’
Mrs Nunes got up and walked over to the window. Then turning back, she looked at Mili again, a faraway look in her eyes. ‘You know, when I first saw you, you were …’ she paused to put her left hand two inches below her right palm ‘… see? That’s how small you were when I first saw you. I was the new nurse and couldn’t find my way to your mother’s room. There are so many rooms and corridors in your palace. And they all look the same. I was bewildered. I stood in the corridor, watching the khus mats beating against the walls in the breeze and wondering what to do, when I heard you. I followed the sound of your crying and what do I see? You alone in the cot, your face puckered and scarlet from all that crying.
‘That was not all. Crouching over you were two of the ugliest black cats I have ever seen. They didn’t look like cats at all. More like Cerberus, straight out of hell. They were sniffing you hungrily. By now my heart was going thump, thump, thump. And you were crying harder and harder. And the more you cried, the more Victoria kicked me in the tummy. And I’m thinking – oh my goodness, oh my goodness, what do I do? What do I do? Unable to think of anything better, I charged towards the cats shouting at the top of my voice and clapping my hands. Thanks be to Jesus, they ran away.
After the Storm Page 13
