Finding Arun

by Marisha Pink

TWENTY-FOUR

  WHEN he awoke the next morning, something had changed inside of Arun. He didn’t know whether it was his encounter with Chandni, or the fact that Hanara had been so distraught at the prospect of him leaving, but he felt the roots of a deep attachment to his birthplace tighten their grip on his heart. He couldn’t envisage staying in Puri forever, but he could no longer imagine his days without seeing Lucky, Hanara and Chandni either. Life in the village was simple, uncomplicated and too monotonous to satisfy his long-term ambitions, yet it was only against this simplistic and uncomplicated backdrop that he had been able to understand and appreciate the things that really mattered in life.

  The unconditional support and security of a loving family, the sense of self-worth from contributing to and being accepted into a community, and his love for Chandni, because he was certain that this is what it was, were all new to Arun. He had never experienced such strong feelings of attachment towards a place and its people, especially after such a short amount of time. He reasoned that it could only be the blinding love that Aunt Ruby had spoken of, that could make him want to devote himself to a life so unlike the one that he had always imagined he would lead. The feeling was delightfully strange, tempting him down a path of uncertainty, in which the only certainty was that he would continue to follow the path, because he had to.

  He moved through his daily rituals like a ghost that day, his silhouette present in the shop, but his soul distant and detached while he contemplated the events unfolding in his life. He was so absorbed in his thoughts that when Chandni appeared in his line of vision, until she spoke he was convinced that she was a figment of his imagination.

  ‘Hi,’ she said shyly, peering up at him.

  She looked radiant, the sun illuminating her face perfectly so that her green eyes sparkled in the light.

  ‘Chandni, hi, how are you?’ he asked, struggling clumsily to his feet and knocking over several items in the process.

  ‘I’m well, thank you for asking … how are you?’

  ‘I’m good … good.’

  An awkward silence followed while they eyed each other nervously, unsure of what to say next.

  ‘Yesterday was …’ they both began in unison.

  The comedy of their synchronised speech caused them both to giggle, instantly easing the tension in the air.

  ‘Ladies first.’

  ‘I just wanted to say thank you for coming to check on me yesterday. It was very kind of you … and I’m sorry that I pushed you out of the house. I hope you were not offended?’

  Arun laughed out loud, remembering the panic with which Chandni had forced him through the side door.

  ‘Not at all.’

  ‘It’s just that if my Bapu-ji had found you there, well he would have thought the worst and then we would both have been in a lot of trouble.’

  ‘I understand. Good thing you’re so well practised at working the escape route.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, you must have had to push a lot of men through that door.’

  Arun regretted the words as soon as they had left his mouth. Chandni instantly averted her gaze and he could only gape at her silently, horrified that his words were going to be interpreted in the wrong way.

  ‘No man has ever visited me at the house before,’ she murmured quietly, without lifting her head.

  Arun continued to gawk at her, this time in surprise; it wasn’t what she had said, but what she was alluding to that had stunned him. She was such a beautiful, dainty woman, that it was difficult to imagine that he could be the only one to have ever pursued her. Yet when he thought about it in more depth, he realised that he had never seen any men around Chandni. He had never seen any men approach her at the mandir and he was sure that if one had been fortunate enough to win her affections by now, that they wouldn’t have been stupid enough to let her go.

  ‘That can’t be true. I would have thought that a beautiful girl like you would have men knocking at her door every day,’ he tried, more flirtatiously than intended.

  Chandni blushed, a rosy colour spreading across her fair cheeks, the result of being simultaneously flattered and embarrassed by the attention being lavished upon her.

  ‘I wish that were so, but my Bapu-ji is a very … effective deterrent.’

  ‘Rajubhai Joshi? Really? But he seemed very welcoming to me.’

  ‘Oh, he is if you’re interested in getting involved with the mandir, his other baby,’ she answered sarcastically.

  ‘But?’

  ‘But when it comes to me, he’s very … particular … too particular. He scares people away, which is funny when you consider how desperate he is to have me married.’

  Arun laughed loudly at Chandni’s dry wit, but beneath the humour it was evident that the situation deeply troubled her.

  ‘Men don’t see me as Chandni; they see me as Rajubhai Joshi’s daughter. Sometimes I just wish …’

  ‘What? What do you wish?’ he probed, feeling more and more enamoured by the second.

  ‘No, it’s really silly, never mind. Forget that I ever said anything.’

  ‘I’m sure that it’s not. Go on, you can tell me,’ he pushed, desperate for her to open up further and share her innermost feelings with him.

  Chandni hesitated and gazed deeply into Arun’s almond-shaped hazel eyes, setting his stomach all a flutter.

  ‘I just wish someone would be brave enough to take a chance; to forget about pleasing my Bapu-ji for one moment and to worry about getting to know me instead. Nobody ever wants to know what I want, what pleases me,’ she finished, sighing.

  Not enthused by Lucky and Hanara’s suggestion that he approach Rajubhai Joshi the night before, Chandni’s words were like music to Arun’s ears.

  ‘How do you know that someone doesn’t want to know?’ he challenged.

  ‘Oh I know it. It’s just not how things work around here; everybody knows and respects my Bapu-ji too much to do anything that might upset him.’

  ‘What if … what if someone wasn’t from around here?’ he croaked, his voice betraying the confident nonchalance that he had wanted to portray.

  Chandni flushed pink once more and, though she was silent, the adoring green eyes with which she was now looking at Arun gave him all the confidence that he needed to ask the question that he had been denied the opportunity to ask the night before.

  ‘Chandni … would you like to go out together some time? Just the two of us?’

  He held his breath tightly in his chest while he waited for an answer, the response seeming to take an eternity to emerge from her lips.

  ‘Do you mean … like ... on a date?’ she asked timidly, blinking up at him.

  ‘Yes … on a date.’

  ‘I’d like that very much,’ she whispered.

  Arun released the breath and his heart soared. Deep down he knew that Chandni would accept his proposition, but, ever the pragmatist, his head had not allowed him to believe it until he heard her say it out loud. She was a free spirit who wanted someone to get to know her, someone who wasn’t afraid to challenge Rajubhai Joshi’s rules, and whilst he had to admit that he was scared of what the old man might do if he found out, the chance to spend more time with Chandni was worth the risk.

  ‘Great. Where should we go?’

  Chandni was pensive for a minute.

  ‘We’ll have to go out of the village, we can’t be seen alone together,’ she concluded finally. ‘If we stay around here someone will certainly see us and my Bapu-ji will know straight away.’

  Arun’s mind was immediately pulled back to the secluded spots that he and Lucky had visited when he first arrived in Puri; a few would make the perfect place for he and Chandni to be alone together.

  ‘How about if we go into Puri? It’s far enough away and the city is full of people; no-one would pay us any attention at all.’

  ‘Puri would be perfect,’ Chandni squealed, starting to get excited, ‘but then it would have to be at the weekend. I
don’t think that I could get away for long enough to make the journey otherwise. How will we get there?’

  ‘I can ask Lucky to take us in his rickshaw.’

  Chandni blushed at the thought of more people knowing about their secret rendezvous.

  ‘Are you sure Lucky won’t mind taking us? I don’t want to be a trouble to him.’

  ‘I’m sure that Lucky would be more than happy to help out,’ he answered, recalling the excitement with which his brother had discussed approaching Rajubhai Joshi the night before.

  A grave look crossed Chandni’s beautiful face and she glanced up at Arun, her eyes suddenly solemn and serious. The look caused Arun’s body to stiffen, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end with apprehension.

  ‘Arun, before we can go, I must tell Hanara what we are planning to do. I don’t want her to think that I am meddling in her family.’

  Arun breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed, warmed by Chandni’s thoughtfulness and sweet sincerity. She always seemed to put everybody else’s feelings before her own, a sentiment that he was well acquainted with.

  ‘That’s okay. I don’t think that she will be surprised to hear about it though.’

  Chandni regarded him with suspicion, seemingly wondering how long he had been plotting to take her out for and exactly how many people he had told. His enthusiasm was endearing, but the more people that knew of their plans, the greater the chance of her father finding out about their exploits.

  ‘Shall we try to go this weekend?’ she asked hopefully, smiling again.

  ‘Yes, this weekend would be per –, oh wait, no,’ answered Arun, thinking out loud. ‘I um … well I can’t this weekend.’

  ‘That’s okay. We can always go to Puri the weekend afterwards,’ Chandni responded brightly.

  ‘We're going to Puri for Rath Yatra in a few days … and then I fly back to England after the festival. I won’t be here the weekend after,’ explained Arun sombrely.

  ‘Oh,’ mouthed Chandni, her face falling at once.

  Arun’s heart ached, knowing that in a single sentence he had made her beautiful smile disappear, but without hesitation, his immediate instinct was to fix the situation. He could stay for another week, another month; however long was necessary to restore the smile to Chandni’s face. But then what would happen? No matter how many times he delayed it, one day he would have to leave and he started to wonder whether it was wrong to act upon the feelings that he held for Chandni after all. Was it wrong to raise her hopes of experiencing the romance that her father had always made impossible, only to take it away from her a week, or a month later?

  His head told him that it was cruel, that it was self-serving and selfish, and that if he couldn’t sustain such a romance, then he shouldn’t initiate it; but he couldn’t help himself. Whenever he saw Chandni, whenever he looked into her eyes, it made him want to make the impossible, possible, and with that all reason went out of the window. He didn’t care that he would have to go back to England, nor did he care that they would have to hide from Rajubhai Joshi and the rest of the village; he just wanted to be with Chandni for however long he could, and if the time he had wasn’t enough then he would simply have to find more.

  ‘I guess I could push my flight back a bit?’

  Chandni’s face lit up and she smiled the smile that made Arun’s head retreat back into its overly sensible box.

  ‘Are you sure? I don’t want to keep you from your responsibilities back home.’

  ‘Positive,’ he affirmed, the huge grin plastered across his face mirroring Chandni’s own.

  They stood facing each other, the warmth of the sun beating down on them almost in celebration of the act that they had just committed to, and Arun knew, without reservation, that he had made the right choice. He was happy, Chandni was happy, and Lucky and Hanara would be equally pleased when they found out that he planned to stay a little longer. They continued to beam at each other adoringly, whilst Arun collected the three packets of salted nuts that were the real purpose of Chandni’s visit, and then he watched dreamily while she sauntered down the road, turning back intermittently to smile at him shyly.

  When Chandni had disappeared completely from view, Arun settled himself back into the shop and lazily daydreamed of what was to come in the fading light. He had asked Chandni to spend time alone with him and she had said yes; it was a perfect end to the day. His heart was content and though his head made one final attempt to reason with him, reminding him that Arthur would be furious about a further extension to his stay, he dismissed the thought as quickly as it arrived, recalling Chandni’s very pertinent words; it wasn’t about what pleased his father, it was about what pleased him.