Where the Secret Lies

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by Gandhi, Malika




  Where the Secret Lies

  By

  Malika Gandhi

  Published 2013

  Copyright © Malika Gandhi

  First Edition

  The author or authors assert their moral right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author or authors of this work.

  All Rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, copied, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written consent of the copyright holder, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

  A note from the author:

  Where the Secret Lies is written from the perspective of two central characters, Anjali and Arianna. Both are from different eras – 1947 and 2012.

  When a new character is speaking, the name will appear at the top – Anjali/Arianna.

  ANJALI

  ONE

  Partition, North India, 1947

  ‘Anjali! Where are you? Sunil, you have to find her. You have to find my sister!’

  Anjali heard her sister’s screams clearly, a lost voice amidst chaos. Her heart pounded; panic making her unable to breathe in the dust-ridden air. She crouched under a tea stall; her face masked with sweat and dirt.

  People shouted, screamed and cried, running from compartment to compartment, looking for their families. A group wielding machetes and knives entered the station. Emotionless, their intent clear – KILL.

  Anjali’s frantic eyes tried to find Neha and Sunil - her sister and brother-in-law, but she only saw bloodthirsty men killing innocent victims, cutting throats and torsos. A woman fell in front of her. Her dead eyes stared. Blood spilled from her half-mutilated breast. Anjali’s cry never left her. She turned and vomited.

  ‘There! Under there, get that girl!’

  ‘No!’ Anjali screamed, backing away from the man’s groping hands. She kicked his face.

  ‘Kuthi! (Bitch!)’

  Anjali crawled out and ran into the crowd. Pushing through, she found herself out of the station. She did not stop. Her chest tightened, her breathing erratic, she had to carry on. Anjali glanced back; the men had not given up. Fresh tears sprang to her eyes, she tried to run faster, but her legs slowed. She could not go on anymore...they would rape and kill her...but she was tired...

  Anjali sank to the blood-drenched ground, ready to make herself their next victim.

  ‘Do not be a coward. Think of your sister. You must run, you must live!’ a voice said inside her.

  Anjali summoned all of her remaining strength and pulled herself to her feet.

  The men walked towards her now, hatred and lust etched on their faces. A smile broke out amongst them. They adjusted their caps. Anjali stumbled back, almost falling over.

  ‘Please leave me alone...I beg you.’

  They laughed. Flexing their fingers, they lunged but Anjali was fast. Trees and houses replaced the station as she ran...houses, once homes alive with light and laughter – now empty shells. She tore her eyes away and ran onto a dark melancholy dirt road. She slipped into a small alley.

  ‘Be brave, Anjali,’ she whispered into the still air as tears threatened to spill.

  Her back against a door, she tried to control her fear. Before she could react, the door opened. A rough hand smothered her mouth, dragging her into the building. Her eyes wide, she struggled to be free.

  ‘Be still,’ said the deep voice of a man. ‘Keep quiet, you will be safe here. Wait until they leave.’

  Anjali let him hold her and waited. Moments later, the man released her. She turned to face her rescuer.

  ARIANNA

  TWO

  London, 2012

  Arianna flicked through the magazine, not paying attention to the pages. She sighed, she longed for her final year to be over. Arianna flung the magazine to the side and opened her portfolio. It was nearly complete.

  ‘Pull yourself together Ari,’ she said to herself. ‘You don’t want to fail!’

  ‘Yes,’ the voice of her dad boomed in her head. ‘If you must do a degree in Fashion then you must pass! Look at your great granddad, your granddad, and myself, all accountants in the family. If you wanted, you could be one too.’

  Arianna’s father did not like her chosen future career. He liked her be a “professional”. Typical, thought Arianna. She closed her portfolio and made her way to the top of the stairs where she stood. Her mother had the Indian channel on loud – a normal occurrence. Arianna glanced at her watch.

  Nine thirty, too early to go to sleep. Her father was already in bed; his snoring infamous in the household. Maybe she should try to finish the drawings...or perhaps bother her baby sister.

  Younger by two years and a bookworm, Tianna was the perfect daughter, smart (far smarter than her) and sensible too. She wanted a career in medicine, making her father very happy.

  The phone went off in her pocket. Arianna checked the screen – a message from Jai, her friend and school companion from years gone by.

  At Georgina’s party. Shall I come and pick you up? Miss you here, Jai

  Oh no. She quickly text back.

  No deal. Have to finish my portfolio. It’s due tomorrow! See you later, have fun!

  She hit the Send button and went back to her bed, flicking the folder open. Putting her phone to silent, she began to write notes and draw.

  The alarm didn’t wake Arianna; it was her mother bellowing from the top of her voice.

  ‘Arianna! Get up, you’re late!’

  Arianna opened her eyes and checked the clock. Damn! Already 8.30! Her portfolio was due in half an hour! Double damn! She flung her covers off, hastily showered in two minutes, brushed her teeth, and dressed. Shaking her hair out through her hands, she grabbed her bag and sprinted down the stairs.

  ‘Drink some chai beta, before you rush out the door,’ her mother held a cup at the foot of the stairs.

  Arianna stopped and gulped the chai. Kissing her mother’s cheek, she rushed to the car where her father was waiting.

  ‘So, did you manage to hand in the assignment?’ Jai joined Arianna at the college entrance.

  Jai was very handsome. Everyone thought they were a couple but she stopped that rumour at once. No one believed her of course.

  ‘Yes, I hope I get a distinction,’ said Arianna. Jai laughed.

  ‘I’m serious.’

  ‘Ari, you are so bright, the stars look dim next to you,’ he said poetically.

  ‘You are so cheesy! Okay, alright, I am a genius!’ Arianna laughed.

  Jai rolled his eyes.

  ‘So how was Georgina’s party? Who was there?’ Arianna changed the subject.

  ‘Everyone and anyone celebrating their end of year exams, apart from you. You were missed Ari,’ Jai pouted.

  Arianna gently punched him in the arm.

  ‘I am glad you had fun,’ she smiled.

  They walked in silence towards the bus stop. Jai and Arianna lived a few streets away from each other making it convenient for them to visit each other often. Jai didn’t have any more exams, he finished last week.

  ‘Ari, how do you feel like going on a small trip next weekend, now that you have finished?’

  ‘What kind of a small trip?’

  ‘We are going to Bournemouth. A group of us, come on, it will be fun,’ Jai gave Arianna his dimpled smile.

  Arianna sighed. She wanted to go, she did, but she agreed to help her mother with some pre-holiday errands.

  ‘I will ask, okay? No promises. Anyway, it might be a no. M
um wants me to go to Wembley with her to do the India shopping.’

  ‘India shopping?’ Jai raised an eyebrow.

  The bus arrived and they climbed on board. They found two seats at the back.

  ‘My family and I are going to India in the summer, remember I told you? We have a lot of shopping to do – you know, for my thousands of relatives. That is what I mean by “India shopping”. Oh Jai, you do need to learn

  so much of our culture yet,’ Arianna shook her head in mock dismay.

  ‘I hope they don’t intend to get you married there,’ concern rang in his voice.

  ‘What brought that on?’

  ‘Nothing, just saying.’

  ‘I am not getting married, relax. It’s my cousin’s marriage in Lucknow. It is going to be in a lovely haveli (mansion). Lucknow is supposed to be beautiful with panoramic scenery. I am really excited – I will be meeting my cousin, Khushboo in such a long time.’

  ‘Is she the one getting married?’ asked Jai.

  ‘No, it’s another cousin of mine. Hey, are you alright?’

  Jai seemed, well not himself.

  ‘How long are you going for?’ he asked.

  ‘Four weeks.’

  ‘Don’t forget to send me a postcard then,’ his tone changed, he wasn’t his cocky self anymore.

  Before Arianna could respond, the bus stopped and Jai jumped off. He didn’t even wave a goodbye.

  Arianna mulled over Jai’s strange behaviour as descended at her stop. Why did he behave that way? Jai normally had a carefree attitude and dismissed serious conversations with a shrug. She didn’t understand, what just happened?

  Arianna’s mother was making roti (chapatti) when she arrived home. She inhaled the fresh aroma and her stomach responded.

  ‘Oops,’ she giggled, giving her mother a kiss on the cheek.

  ‘The dinner is ready. Sit, sit. Tell me, how did your day go?’

  Arianna began to plate a dish.

  ‘It was okay, I suppose,’ she said.

  ‘Then you did well,’ her mother sat opposite he. She put another hot roti on her plate and added more cauliflower sabzi.

  ‘No more, mum,’ Arianna drank some water.

  ‘Oh I am so stressed beta, there is much shopping to do.’

  Arianna’s mother took out a long list from her apron pocket.

  ‘We need to buy three saris for your aunties, five packets of almonds, two packets of clove...tut tut, so many demands. Do you know they can get all of this in India? But no, they want foreign goods they say. Are they fools? All this comes from India!’

  ‘Then don’t take them,’ Arianna thought it was simple.

  ‘Na na, I can’t do that. I will not hear the end of it!’

  ‘Where is Tianna? Is she not eating?’ Arianna asked. ‘Where is dad?’

  ‘It is only you and I tonight. Arianna, please call your father Papa, it sounds so much better,’ chastised her mother. ‘He is out with his group of friends, probably at the pub. Tianna is in her room, studying. She has already eaten.’

  ‘Oh. Then, it is only the two of us.’

  After dinner, they washed the dishes and cleaned the kitchen before settling in front of the TV. The Indian programme turned Arianna’s thoughts to their forthcoming visit.

  Arianna had not been back to India in ten years and was quite excited and a little apprehensive too. The accent was very different to her own. Will her cousins, aunties and uncles and other distant relatives be able to

  understand her and she them? Speaking to them over the phone always made her feel uncomfortable.

  ‘I cannot “talk” over the phone,’ she moaned to Tianna one day. ‘I seem to get stuck on what to say.’

  ‘You should use email,’ advised her sister wisely, as she switched on her ereader.

  Arianna thought it was a fantastic idea. She became an email wizard and spent a lot of time on email chat with her cousin, Khushboo (who promised to be her guide throughout the visit) but with her other relatives too. Arianna hoped four weeks in India would be long enough for the holiday.

  The phone rang and rang. Why is no one picking the damn thing up?

  ‘Mum!’ No answer. ‘Tianna! Dad!’ Still no answer.

  Damn! Arianna crawled out of bed and realised the ringing was coming from her mobile. Drat! She searched under the bed and under her pillow. The phone was not there. The phone was still ringing. She wished it would just go on to voicemail. Ah! She grabbed her phone from under her dresser and hit the pick up button.

  ‘Hello,’ she said out of breath.

  ‘Ari, is that you?’

  ‘Who else, Jai? What time do you call this? It is early and a Sunday too. Why are you ringing?’

  ‘Ari, it is one in the afternoon, trust you to sleep late.’

  One in the afternoon? Wow, mum is going to kill me! She was asked to pick up some dry cleaning when the shop opened. Arianna vaguely remembered her mother talking to her sometime earlier when she was sleeping or was that a dream? Nope, it is real. Arianna grabbed the note left on her dressing table.

  ‘Ari, are you there?’

  ‘Oh. Er, yes Jai. Sorry.’

  ‘I rang because I wanted to say sorry. You know, for my strange behaviour the other day.’

  ‘About my holiday in India? It is only for a few weeks, you know. Anyway, it is sweet. Thanks for being concerned.’

  Arianna absently played with the hem of her cardigan, waiting for Jai to speak.

  ‘So are you coming on the trip?’ he said at last.

  She smiled. ‘I’ll try my best.’

  Arianna brushed her teeth and changed after ending the call. It was Sunday but the dry cleaners may still be open. She got into her car thinking about Jai and his worry over her holiday. She felt guilty...whatever happens; she decided she would make it up to him.

  As it turned out, Arianna’s mother was not keen on the idea of her going on a weekend trip to Bournemouth but her father didn’t mind – much to the envy of her younger sister. At least it made Jai happy but Arianna could not shake the feeling that something was not quite right.

  ANJALI

  THREE

  They waited silently in the dark. The men had long gone but still the threat lingered, death lurking in every corner. The man held Anjali by the arm like something of value. His beautiful face was visible even in the gloom.

  Anjali sensed an aura of manliness about him, not one of the weak and faint-hearted – a survivor. Minutes crawled by and then he spoke.

  ‘We are safe. We will proceed out.’

  Anjali nodded mutely. He released her arm taking her hand instead; warmth spread through her. Once outside the man kept vigil, expecting danger but the street was empty much to Anjali’s relief.

  The path was too quiet, eerie. Anjali heard no distant cries or wails. No running or shouting, nethertheless she stayed close to this man. Rounding a corner, she gasped and stopped in her tracks.

  ‘What is it?’ the man asked sharply.

  Anjali pointed to a trail of blood. Tears sprang to her eyes.

  ‘Get used to it,’ he said.

  ‘How could they do this? Those innocent people...’

  ‘Or not so innocent,’ he said without emotion. ‘Get used to it.’

  With no idea where they were headed, Anjali followed him. They passed the railway station – Anjali noticed he didn’t look at the dead like she did. The bodies lay

  ruthlessly on the ground, their eyes open; arms and legs angled and torso cut open. The stench made her retch.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said.

  ‘We have a long way to go,’ the man showed no emotion or concern and walked on.

  The rioting and merciless killing began almost straight away after India and Pakistan gained their independence. The British Sahibs and Memsahibs started moving out of India along with their families. The time of Mass Immigration arrived.

  Muslims moved their families, livestock, and a few possessions to the newly formed country called Pa
kistan. Hindus moved out of their homes in Pakistan and crossed the border to India. Some made it but others didn’t.

  ‘What are you thinking?’ the man asked lighting a cigarette.

  ‘About my family,’ Anjali lied.

  ‘Who is in your family?’

  ‘My sister and brother in law, his younger sister Meera and their mother who is very much like my own,’ tears filled Anjali’s eyes. Where were they? Were they safe?

  ‘Can I ask you your name?’ she said after a while.

  ‘Mohan,’ he said, he eyes not wavering from hers.

  He moved a strand away from her face making Anjali avert her eyes.

  ‘I am Anjali.’

  ‘Anjali, a gift, an offering?’ Mohan smiled.

  ‘Something like that...Mohan ji, can we go back to the station? Perhaps my sister will be there.’

  ‘I’m sorry, we cannot. I don’t believe your family will be at the station anymore.’

  ‘No,’ she whispered shaking her head in denial.

  ‘That is not what I meant. They may still be alive and I pray to God that to be true but for now we have to move on.’

  Tears threatened to fall again, Anjali took a deep breath.

  ‘Do you have a family?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes,’ Mohan cut the conversation.

  Anjali did not probe further.

  Anjali and Mohan walked away from the city onto a lone road that turned into an off track dirt road, leading into a wooded area. It was too dark but Mohan helped her through, holding her hand all the while. She stepped on brittle twigs and tripped a number of times but Mohan showed no sign of anger or impatience.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said again.

  Mohan gave her a half smile and walked on. It was night but there was no moon. Anjali’s eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness. She heard a river and wondered how far they walked. Mohan ji seemed to know where he was going... he still held her hand.

 

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