Families and young and old couples ate food from the stalls and socialised with their friends into the happy hours of the evening. College students gathered, told jokes, and were having a merry time. Arianna
spotted a couple walking to the edge of the sea, hands held tight.
‘Let’s get some food,’ Tianna pulled Arianna towards the many stalls. Khushboo gave Arianna a look, which said “Isn’t this fab!”
Sometime later, a few of Khushboo’s friends arrived and joined the girls. Arianna recognised them to be Khushboo’s friends she met in the afternoon. A couple of boys arrived with them, one of whom would not stop staring at Arianna. He came forward when they were alone.
‘You are not eating anything,’ he stated. ‘Can I get you something?’
‘Thank you but I just finished, it was very nice,’ Arianna said politely.
‘Where are you from? You do not seem from around here.’
‘No, I am from London.’
‘I am Nikhil, Khushboo’s close friend. She has told me so much about you - you are Arianna, am I correct? It’s a pleasure meeting you finally,’ Nikhil put out his hand for Arianna to shake.
‘It is nice meeting you,’ Arianna said, obliging.
‘Well, I’ll see you around,’ Nikhil said.
‘Come on Ari, what are you doing here alone?’ Tianna came by and dragged Arianna away without a glance at Nikhil.
‘Ti! That was rude,’ Arianna exclaimed.
‘No, he was rude. What was he doing? Who is he?’
‘He is Khushboo’s friend, silly. Now he will think we are ill-mannered!’ said Arianna.
‘Oh sorry. I thought he was harassing you. Hey, have you emailed Jai yet?’
‘Oh my God, I totally forgot!’
Arianna remembered their conversation at the airport. She felt guilty to not have emailed him, how could she forget? She must email him. She will email him tomorrow.
FIVE
Arianna found the cyber café. The Lounge, a popular hang out for college kids was pretty busy. Khushboo warned her beforehand the possibility of not obtaining access to a PC could be high. Arianna hoped she was wrong on the last part.
Arianna noticed the warm welcome as she entered the café. The interior boasted of soft, plush seats, booths in various corners and a lively and relaxing atmosphere; a gentle hum danced over the airways.
College girls and boys chatted, some with full plates of food before them whilst others sipped coffee or ate ice-cream. The kids dressed in anything but traditional; t-shirts, shorts or trousers for the boys and the girls paraded in t-shirts or cotton long tops, known as kurtis with jeans and sandals. Waiters dressed in sharp pressed uniforms served the young crowd, rejoicing as generous tips were left behind. Arianna looked towards the computer section and was relieved to see unoccupied computers.
‘Excuse Ma’am, can I help you?’
Ma’am? No one had ever called her that.
‘I need access to a computer,’ Arianna said.
‘Yes ma’am. This way please,’ he took Arianna to a booth in a far corner. ‘Would you like some refreshments?’
‘Refreshments? Oh, er yes please. A coffee would be fine.’
‘We have many varieties, Ma’am. Take your time. I will give you a few moments.’ The attendant left her with a two-sided menu and went to attend others. Arianna scanned the list and chose a diet cola. Something tried and tested. When the boy came back, she gave him her order.
The cafe’s logo and name ran along the screen when Arianna turned the machine on. It reminded her of a news channel where ‘breaking news’ would run along the bottom of the screen. She thought of London; a twinge of homesickness overwhelmed her for a second, images of her house in London, her bed, her friends and of Jai crowded her mind.
Jai – what did she think of him as? A friend or something more? Did she feel the same attraction as he did for her? Unsure and confused, she took a moment to clear her thoughts. She could not let him think she loved him, as a lover. He was only a friend.
Arianna logged onto her email site and typed in her username and password. The waiting seemed to take forever as the page took its sweet time to load. The inbox page popped up and Arianna groaned – the list of emails totalled to over a hundred. Arianna scanned the list, looking for an email from Jai but she found none. She resented the fact that Jai did not have the decency to email her, especially after what he said. How dare he!
She logged out, angry and upset. A stinging under her eyelids let a few tears escape. Embarrassed, she wiped them away and picked up her bag.
‘Arianna? Hey, are you alright?’
‘Nikhil, hello,’ Arianna was taken aback. What was he doing here?
‘Is everything alright?’ Nikhil showed concern but Arianna didn’t want to tell a stranger her silly moment of disappointment.
‘Everything’s okay. I need to get back home, the others will be wondering where I am.’
‘I can give you a lift in my car,’ he offered.
‘No, I will be fine. Anyway, are you not meeting someone here?’ she asked.
‘I come here to pass the time. I like the busy atmosphere.’
Reluctant but also glad, Arianna let Nikhil drive her home. His car was not a show off, she was happy to see.
‘This may sound strange but if you need someone to talk to, if you need a friend, I will listen,’ Nikhil turned into the main road.
The skies shone a beautiful blue and Arianna revelled in the heat. Rickshaws or Autos as the locals preferred, zigzagged their way in between cyclists, cars, and Lorries. Everyone seemed to be in a hurry, tooting continuously and for no apparent reason.
Nikhil’s expert driving relaxed Arianna a little. Her eyes wandered to his tight t-shirt, his beautiful, muscled biceps, his perfect straight jaw and defined cheekbones. He wore his hair sleeked back. Arianna blushed as he caught her staring at him. He gazed back and time stopped for a moment. A loud toot brought them both back to the present. A man waved an angry fist as Nikhil swerved his car. He shouted “sorry” to the driver and began to concentrate on the road again.
Arianna settled down in her seat and played with a strand. Her heart fluttered and heat rushed through her
veins. Ugh, what was wrong with her? She should say something to break the silence.
‘How long have you known Khushboo?’ she asked.
‘Since high school.’
‘Is she more than a friend?’
Nikhil raised an eyebrow.
‘Sorry,’ she said.
Nikhil laughed. ‘I never felt anything more for her. She is a dear friend of mine but that is all.’
They arrived at Khushboo’s house and Nikhil turned the ignition off. He shifted his body to his side, his
dark, intense eyes once again started boring into hers. Arianna couldn’t look away.
‘Now answer my question. Why were you upset?’
Arianna lowered her eyes and began to pick at her sleeve. ‘I was expecting an email from Jai from back home. He is one of my best friends.’
‘A male friend. A boyfriend?’
‘He is a good friend,’ Arianna thought she heard Nikhil sigh in relief.
‘I wouldn’t worry,’ he said. ‘He will email soon, I’m sure. How long have you been here? Two to three days? Give him time.’
‘I said I would email him. What is wrong with me? He must be waiting from an email from me. I...Nikhil, do you mind? Will you take me back to the café?’ Nikhil looked at Arianna, puzzled.
‘I need to send an email,’ she said.
Arianna sat at the computer, and logged into her account.
Jai, it has been two days since my arrival. I did not expect India to be so wonderful! Khushboo is wonderful and has already taken me places. You would like her. I met some nice people here and they are great. The weather is not as bad as I expected, there is a lot of sunshine. :0)
I think of you a lot and miss you but Jai, I love you - as my best friend and nothing m
ore.
I am at a cyber café. Khushboo does not have a computer at home. I have to go, don’t be disheartened, Jai. I am and always will be your best friend, no matter what. Wish you were here to see this wonderful country.
Yours always,
Ari.x
Arianna hit the send button.
‘Sorry, Jai,’ she said.
‘Are you feeling better?’ Nikhil asked as Arianna climbed into the car.
‘Yes, I think so,’ Arianna replied but something was still wrong...should she have told Jai about Nikhil? Don’t be silly, she scolded herself. Nikhil is a friend and he is Khushboo’s best friend.
As soon as Arianna got home, Khushboo dragged her to her room.
‘You were with Nikhil!’ she squealed.
‘Yes and no.’
‘Tell me.’
‘What is there to tell?’ Arianna laughed. ‘Okay, I met Nikhil at the café. He was kind enough to drop me home.’
Khushboo frowned. ‘That’s all?’
‘He said you two are very good friends.’
‘Oh...I thought there was some connection between you and him...I saw you with him last night at Juhu. He liked you and now he meets you at the café. It cannot be coincidence.’
‘Why not? Khushboo, it is a coincidence. Don’t over think it,’ Arianna tapped Khushboo’s forehead. ‘But what I don’t understand is why you are not dating him? Have you seen him?’
It was Khushboo’s turn to laugh. ‘Ari, I can’t see him like that. That would be so weird!’
Unconvinced, Arianna let the subject pass.
‘What are our plans for the rest of the day?’
Khushboo smiled. ‘What else but more shopping!
ANJALI
SIX
Anjali and Mohan walked for days, losing track of time and distance. Anjali became tired but Mohan on the other hand never complained and kept a steady pace. A gentleman; he made sure they rested plenty, refreshed and ate, something he did not negotiate.
A lot of the time, they walked in silence. When Mohan and Anjali did have a conversation, the subject was about Anjali and her life. Mohan avoided talking about his own kin, making Anjali curious. When she asked, he would change conversation.
‘Please don’t ask me. I will tell you when the time is right,’ he said when Anjali’s questions became frustratingly unbearable. The pain in his eyes pierced Anjali’s heart.
Somewhere near a village, Mohan noticed Anjali’s sluggish steps when she suddenly collapsed.
‘Anjali!’ Mohan threw down his satchel and knelt beside her. He took her cold hand. ‘Please, wake up.’ Mohan splashed water on her face.
‘Mohan ji...’
‘Oh thank God.’ Mohan sat Anjali up slowly and touched her forehead.
‘I feel dizzy,’ she said.
‘Here, drink some water. I’m sorry, I have worn you out,’ Mohan handed her the flask.
Anjali drank and handed the flask back. She stood; her legs unsteady. Mohan put his arms around her waist and supported her.
‘There is a village here where we can stop and get some food. Will you be alright to walk?’
‘Mohan ji, can we use the train or bus?’ asked Anjali.
Mohan shook his head. ‘It is too dangerous.’
‘The killings will have stopped, I’m sure if -’
‘No, there is a lot of danger yet. Many are still moving out of their homes to escape being murdered.’
A sob left Anjali as she thought about her own family. Mohan put a hand under her chin and lifted her face to his.
‘I’m sorry,’ she sobbed.
‘You must be brave. You must be strong,’ he wiped her tears.
They stood together, heat from their bodies bringing them closer. Mohan kissed her lips with tenderness. She melted – she wanted more and gasped. Anjali stepped back, unsure how to react.
‘You have grown on me, Anjali ji. I find you attractive and I can’t bear to be without you.’ The seduction in his voice was dangerous.
He kissed her again, this time with urgency. It was over too soon when he pulled away.
‘We must continue before darkness falls,’ he said.
The village seemed deserted; the silence frighteningly loud. Anjali gripped Mohan’s arm. Walking deeper into the village, they came upon houses no longer habited, left as black skeletal ruins. Anjali covered her nose to rid the stench of murder.
Mohan undeterred, moved around, searching and inspecting the non-habited dwellings.
‘Mohan ji,’ Anjali pointed.
Three children sat with their arms around each other, watching their mother clear the floor with long, thin branches. They huddled close as Mohan and Anjali approached. The woman stopped her work and gathered the children around her quickly.
She stared at the intruders sharply.
‘What do you want?’ she asked. The children cowered behind her. ‘Do not come a step forward or I will take your eyes out!’ The woman raised her thin broom.
‘We have not come to harm. Please believe us,’ Mohan said.
‘I will not allow you to take my home or hurt my children, you understand? You may have taken my husband but you will not hurt my children!’
‘We are not here to hurt anyone,’ Anjali said. She showed empty hands.
‘Then why are you here? Go away,’ the woman begged.
‘We will leave,’ said Mohan kindly and turned to Anjali. ‘We are not welcome here. We should go.’
‘Wait,’ the woman said. She spent a few moments looking at Anjali and Mohan in silence. ‘You seem troubled and hungry.’
‘Yes,’ said Anjali.
‘You promise you won’t hurt us?’ the woman asked doubtfully.
‘Behna (sister), if we were to hurt you, we wouldn’t be standing here talking to you. You and your children would be dead,’ said Mohan.
‘You are right,’ the woman said. ‘Yes, you are right.’
Anjali and Mohan sat in the woman’s kitchen. It housed a small 2-ringed cooker, a stack of pots and pans and a few brass plates and tumblers. The woman laid down mats for her guests and provided them with a basic but filling meal of chapattis and potatoes. The children ate with Mohan and Anjali but the woman did not join them, she just stared at an empty space.
‘My husband was the merchant of this village,’ the woman began to talk. Anjali dropped her spoon in surprise for she did not expect her to speak.
‘Everyone said Namaste and Salaam to him on the street and he always gave the same salutation back. There was no division of religions; no one cared who was Hindu, Sikh or Musalmaan (Muslim). We all knew each other for years as did our parents and grandparents. We loved one another as sisters and brothers.
Then one day, everything changed. There was tension, weeks before partition was granted. The Musalmaans became wary of us because we were Hindu. A few fights broke out between friends. It wasn’t the elderly – they were sensible. The youth of today, their blood boils quicker and they don’t hesitate to kill.’
Mohan and Anjali looked at one another. This story was not unfamiliar.
The woman continued as if in a trance. ‘As tension grew, so did the arguments. The musalmaans told us they couldn’t wait for Pakistan to be born. They said they hated us and they would be going to a new motherland – their own country. They spat on India’s soil,’ her eyes blazed with loathing.
‘We have kept you long enough,’ Anjali said. ‘Thank you for the food.’
The woman grabbed Anjali’s ankle as she stood.
‘No, please stay! You cannot go. I am scared. Please, please stay until the morning.’
‘Of course, behna, you will be safe,’ Mohan said after Anjali nodded her approval.
Mohan kept a tight lookout at the front of the house. The children had fallen asleep and Anjali helped the woman to clean up.
‘May I ask your name?’ Anjali asked the woman.
‘I am Jayshree, what is your name, beta?’
‘Anjali and h
e is Mohan.’
‘God bless you. May you have many children.’
Anjali shook her head. ‘We are not together – I mean we are not married. Mohan ji rescued me...I was lucky...’
‘I see,’ the woman said.
‘How did your husband die?’ Anjali asked quietly, fully aware of the answer but she wanted the woman to unburden her heart.
‘The Musalmaans came into the village one night, maybe two in the morning. We were asleep. I heard shouting and a loud crash. I smelled smoke – the house was on fire! My husband managed to stop it from spreading. I still remember my heart thumping loud in my chest. We went outside and the horrifying screams began.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Anjali meant it.
‘My husband was killed in front of me and my children, cut open by those monsters. He had gone to rescue a crying child. The mother came and took her child; I remember she was covered in blood. Well, the
murderers came. My husband could not escape.
‘He is a Hindu! Kill him!’ they shouted. My horror was my silence, afraid to leave my children; I could not to go to my dying husband. I watched from afar as he died the death of an animal.’
Jayshree broke down and sobbed and Anjali took her into an embrace until she calmed.
Anjali watched Jayshree and her children as they slept. Sometimes, Jayshree would cry out in her sleep but then would settle down again. Mohan came in from time to time. He looked tired.
‘Let’s get some rest,’ said Anjali.
Mohan and Anjali settled on the floor on top of a thin blanket, listening to the quiet. Eventually, Anjali fell asleep on Mohan’s shoulder. He gently laid her down and went to sleep in another room.
The morning brought cloudy skies. Jayshree, embarrassed apologised profoundly for her lack of a good host. Anjali reminded her she was a victim and probably hardly slept at all since her husband’s death. Jayshree admitted she had not slept at all. Mohan and Anjali ate a good breakfast and prepared for their leave.
Where the Secret Lies Page 3