Finding Arun

by Marisha Pink

THIRTY-TWO

  ARUN’S palms were hot and sweaty when he walked the familiar dirt track to Chandni’s house the next day. Keeping his head low, he tried to remain inconspicuous and, though he felt reassured by the fact that Rajubhai Joshi was away from the village, the thought that somebody else might spot him walking to, or worse entering, Chandni’s house filled him with a deep sense of dread. Rounding the corner onto her street, he looked around cautiously, and, satisfied that the coast was clear, he quickly approached her house and rapped softly on the door. His breathing was ragged and his heart thumped furiously in his chest, a mixture of adrenaline and desire fuelling the pursuit of what he knew to be a dangerous activity. After a few seconds he heard footsteps approach and the door opened inwards until it was slightly ajar. Arun pushed the door back further, just far enough to create a gap that he could squeeze his lanky frame through and quickly closed the door behind him.

  Chandni launched herself at him as soon as he was safely inside, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist and burying her head in his chest. Relieved, he enveloped her in his arms and fervently kissed the top of her head, breathing in the sweet, familiar aroma of her hair.

  ‘I’ve missed you so much,’ he whispered, stroking her silky sepia tresses soothingly.

  ‘I’ve missed you too,’ she breathed.

  They clung to each other tightly, lost in their embrace for several minutes, until eventually Chandni untangled herself and motioned for them both to sit down.

  ‘How have you been?’ he asked tentatively, taking stock of her small face.

  She looked pale and tired, her usually shining green eyes devoid of the sparkle that he so loved.

  ‘I’m okay,’ she sighed, leaning against Arun’s chest. ‘My Bapu-ji is still pretty mad about everything though.’

  ‘I don’t understand how he found out about us; we were so careful.’

  Chandni sighed deeply.

  ‘Bapu-ji and I were discussing the travel programme, like I promised. He was quite upset at the thought of me going to Mumbai alone, so I tried to explain that Naresh would be close by to look after me. For a moment I thought that he was actually going to let me go, but then Naresh started saying that he’d seen us together outside of the mandir and that you were planning to go to medical college in Mumbai too. He was convinced that we were running away together and he said that he would not help me to lie. Of course Bapu-ji believed him and then, and then …’ she broke off, her eyes welling up with tears as she tried and failed to hold back her sobs.

  ‘Shh, it’s okay,’ soothed Arun, stroking her head comfortingly, ‘it’s not your fault.’

  ‘Oh but it is, Arun, it is my fault. He was so angry, so disappointed in me, that I told him everything. I couldn’t lie anymore.’

  Arun hugged Chandni closer, caressing her back while she shook from the force of her sobs. It wasn’t her fault and even Naresh, for all Arun’s dislike of his character, had thought that he was doing the right thing by Rajubhai Joshi; there was no malice in his intent. He held Chandni until the worst of it had passed and kissed away the tears that remained.

  ‘I’m sorry, Chandni,’ he whispered after a time, ‘really I am.’

  ‘What do you have to be sorry for?’ she answered, sitting up and curling her legs beneath her protectively.

  ‘For getting you into so much trouble with your father, and with Naresh.’

  ‘Never be sorry, Arun; I’m not sorry. I have had a wonderful time with you, it was better than I could have ever hoped, and I will always keep the memories of it very fondly,’ she said, her eyes beginning to fill with tears again.

  ‘What? Wait, hold on a second,’ he said softly, taking her into his arms once more, ‘it’s not over. What are you talking about?’

  ‘I tried, Arun. I really tried, but he’s not going to allow us to be together. Not now, not ever,’ she wailed.

  ‘Please don’t cry, Chandni. Sure, he’s mad right now, but he’ll calm down eventually.’

  ‘You didn’t see his face, Arun. He was so very angry that I’d been lying to him, so very disappointed. I wanted to see you, just one last time, but after today … after today I really can’t see you again.’

  Arun felt as though he’d taken a bullet to the chest. Chandni could not possibly be suggesting what it sounded as though she was.

  ‘You can see me. You can see me, Chandni; I’ll talk to him. I’ll make him understand,’ Arun pleaded desperately. ‘He’s only upset because he thinks that we are just having fun, that I’m not serious about you. He doesn’t realise that I love you, Chandni.’

  The words escaped his mouth before he’d really had the opportunity to process them, but when he heard them out loud he knew that they were true. He had known that there was something special about Chandni from the moment he had laid eyes on her and in the short time that they had spent together his affections had only grown stronger. It was the only natural conclusion, the only explanation for why he felt the way that he did every time he looked into her eyes. He didn’t know how his feelings had developed so quickly, but he knew in his heart that he wanted to be with her. Whether he was forced to return to London or not, and even if they could not be together physically, he wasn’t ready for things to be over between them emotionally.

  ‘I love you,’ he repeated, tipping her head up towards him so that he could look into her eyes and she would know that he was being sincere.

  He waited for her to respond as she peeked up at him from between her long lashes, seeming simultaneously delighted and distressed by his words.

  ‘I … I love you too, Arun,’ she whispered hoarsely, ‘more than you will ever know.’

  It was all the encouragement that he needed to hear and he bent forward to kiss her deeply and passionately, no longer caring who might catch them.

  After a few moments Chandni abruptly pulled away, her expression dark and serious.

  ‘Please will you promise me something, Arun,’ she said gravely.

  ‘Anything.’

  ‘Promise me that you won’t try to talk to my Bapu-ji.’

  ‘What? Why?’

  ‘Because, you’ll only make it worse.’

  ‘How could telling him that I’m in love with you make it worse?’ Arun grumbled, entirely confused.

  ‘Because it’s not just about that, Arun. Even if he could accept that our love is genuine ... boyfriends, girlfriends, dates, all these things are not accepted within our culture. He won’t allow them, because he doesn’t understand them, and in his eyes, the fact that you didn’t seek his blessing right from the start not only means that you lack respect for our culture and traditions, but for him as a man. As long as he feels that way he will never respect you and if he doesn’t respect you, then he won’t listen to you either.’

  Arun contemplated Chandni’s argument and recalled with great irritation Lucky and Hanara’s earlier suggestion that Rajubhai Joshi was the key to gaining access to Chandni. On the one hand he could understand why the old man might feel slighted by his actions, but on the other it was hard to believe that things would have turned out any different if he had asked for permission upfront. The request would almost certainly have been denied and even if it hadn’t, they would never have been allowed to spend time alone or to visit half of the places that they had experienced together, places where their love had been able to blossom and grow without interference.

  ‘Are you saying that you want us to keep sneaking around behind his back?’ asked Arun, confused by the expression of Chandni’s earlier wish not to lie anymore.

  ‘No, no. We can’t. We mustn’t.’

  ‘Then what?’

  ‘I will talk to him. When he has calmed down a bit and when the time is right.’

  ‘And in the meantime?’

  ‘In the meantime … we have to continue as we are.’

  Arun opened his mouth to protest, but then thought better of it and settled for sulking instead, protruding his bottom lip in a stroppy pout.


  ‘Please try to understand,’ Chandni pleaded quietly, ‘I do love you, but I can’t lie anymore. It’s too risky.’

  Arun nodded his acceptance to the promise, but he wasn’t happy about it. The week had been agonising, seeing her, but not speaking to her, touching her, but not being able to hold her; how could he indefinitely endure more of the same? The very thought crushed him, but a promise was a promise and he had to at least try, for Chandni’s sake.

  In the wake of their professions and promises, Chandni and Arun sat, clinging to one another, enjoying the time that they could before they would be forced to separate again. Arun felt greatly comforted by her presence alone and for the first time in a week his body submitted to relaxation, the tension in his muscles virtually melting away. Exhausted by his run of sleepless nights, he was on the verge of dozing off completely when he felt Chandni’s soft hands gently stroking him awake.

  ‘Hey,’ she smiled sweetly, ‘I forgot to ask how it went with your father. What did he say about going to Mumbai?’

  Arun felt a sharp pang in his chest and winced at the memory of his conversation with Arthur. He had been so consumed by Chandni’s suggestion that they end their relationship that he had completely forgotten about the added complexity of Arthur’s ultimatum. He looked across at her innocent face, not knowing how to tell her and not wanting to burden her with any more than he already had, but she was looking at him expectantly and he knew that he would not be able to dodge the question.

  ‘He wants me to come home. He’s not going to pay for me to go to medical college here and if I don’t come home now, he’s said that I shouldn’t bother to come back at all.’

  Chandni gasped and clasped her hands to her mouth, equally shocked by both the revelation and the calmness with which Arun had delivered it. Her eyes were laden with pity and it made Arun feel pathetic.

  ‘What are you going to do?’

  ‘What can I do? I don’t want to go home, especially now that Arthur’s behaving like this, but becoming a doctor is my dream and he is still my father. I just don’t understand why he suddenly cares so much about where I go to study; we’re not even that close. And I know that if I go home, he’s going to do everything in his power to make sure that I can’t come back out here again,’ he finished, his voice rising to a crescendo with exasperation.

  ‘So stay then,’ Chandni whispered hopefully, ‘don’t go, Arun … please.’

  ‘Oh, Chandni, I want to, really I do, but how can I? I can’t afford to pay for medical college myself, and who knows how long it would take to save up enough money. Plus, there are still no guarantees that I’ll even get a place. I want to be close to you, and to Lucky and Hanara, but I think the only way I can make that happen is to go away and come back again some day.’

  Chandni smiled a bittersweet smile; she seemed charmed by Arun’s ongoing desire to be close to her and irked by the uncooperating practicalities of their situation, but, much the same as Hanara and Lucky, she couldn’t advise on a solution.

  The remainder of the afternoon passed by faster than Arun would have liked and though he enjoyed the opportunity to spend time alone with Chandni again after so long, they both remained subdued by the gloomy outlook. It was impossible to avoid intermittently discussing the challenges that they faced and the more that they talked, the more convinced Arun became that returning to England was the sensible option. It was the only path that provided any certainty and this way he knew that he would be able to achieve his dream of becoming a doctor. Even if by some small miracle he were to be accepted into medical college in Mumbai and managed to find the funds to attend, with Chandni under close watch and Arthur threatening to disown him, he was starting to think that going home would be best for everyone all round.