Before the Rains

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Before the Rains Page 32

by Dinah Jefferies


  ‘Chatur asked me to.’

  ‘But why?’

  ‘To make trouble for you. To make it seem like you’d be a risk to us all.’

  ‘So Chatur did that.’

  Indi nodded.

  ‘I have very little power here, you know. I needed Chatur. I’m so sorry about not telling Jay. And now Priya has designs on him …’

  Eliza was stunned. ‘Priya?’

  ‘She is accustomed to being a powerful woman at court, and it’s quite normal for a Maharani to marry her dead husband’s brother.’

  ‘My God! I never knew. But he loathes her.’

  ‘You still don’t get it? Despite his vigour and strength, for us marriage has nothing to do with falling in love, as you call it – here it’s about duty and family. Our marriages are arranged.’

  Eliza sighed. Would she ever understand India? ‘What about love?’ she asked.

  ‘People grow to love one another. That way it lasts.’

  ‘But who can arrange a marriage for you?’

  Indi shook her head. ‘I am fond of Dev but I have no dowry, just my grandmother’s house. You have seen it. A mud hut and worthless. I am completely alone in this world and I expect I always will be.’

  Eliza nodded and suddenly realized how important it must have been for Indi to try to create an ally of Chatur. With no status or power of her own, she really had little choice. But Eliza decided she had to say something about her own relationship with Jay. It had been more than mere romantic love. She knew it, Jay knew it, and she wanted Indi to know it too.

  ‘I love Jay,’ she said. ‘I always will.’

  ‘And he, you, I am sure.’

  ‘But Priya? That thought makes me feel quite sick.’

  ‘All I can say is that Jay has always surprised us. He has his own views on life and he will only do what he believes to be right.’

  ‘Whatever that might be?’

  Indira nodded, and Eliza wondered how to progress the conversation and how she might be able to help the girl. Then she had an idea. ‘Would you ever become involved in the independence movement?’ she asked. ‘Everything will change for ordinary people. I see now that self-governance is the only way ahead. I just hope it can be achieved peacefully.’

  ‘Well, on that score Dev is very convincing. He has persuaded me that the world we all know is about to come to an end. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow. But it will.’

  Eliza smiled. ‘I assume you don’t mean the end of the world. You mean British India?’

  ‘Yes, that, but Dev believes the princely states will go too. Of course most of the Princes are fighting to preserve their seats of power. And who can blame them?’

  ‘Jay will be a fair ruler while the kingdom lasts.’

  There was a short pause, and in it Eliza guessed what was coming next.

  ‘Tell me about him … tell me about your father, please, Eliza.’

  Eliza took a breath, then sighed. She had always loved to remember her father, but now her feelings of love were so mixed up with anger and resentment she hardly knew where to begin. She recalled him taking her to watch pig-sticking and that she had hated it. There had been so much blood. Better, she had at first thought, was the time he had taken her on a shoot. They had waited on a high platform, but when the Viceroy had shot a beautiful elephant she had wept, much to her father’s embarrassment.

  ‘I loved my father,’ was all she could say.

  ‘And your mother?’

  ‘His infidelity ruined her life.’

  ‘You must resent me.’

  Eliza looked at Indi, so alone. ‘When Clifford told me, I was genuinely beside myself.’

  Checked by a faint memory of her father, she paused, wondering if it was real. Or had she been too young to understand the significance of seeing her father holding the hand of an Indian woman.

  ‘Angry at me?’ Indi asked.

  But Eliza was following her own train of thought and didn’t reply.

  ‘Angry at me?’ Indi repeated.

  Eliza sighed. ‘At you, at my father, at Clifford for telling me. Worst of all was the anger I directed at my mother for allowing what my father had done to destroy her.’ She paused. ‘My mother had a drink problem.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘And I blamed her for everything. I thought my father was perfect. Fool that I was.’ She got to her feet; this was beginning to hurt too much. ‘I think I maybe should go now.’

  ‘So soon? Why not come up to the roof to look at the view?’

  ‘So you can push me off?’ Eliza said with a smile.

  Indi looked blank and then she laughed as she stood. ‘You never know. Come on. Up there, well, it’s my way of seeing beyond my problems. And now, before the sun is at its height, is best.’

  Indi took Eliza’s hand and led her to what she said was a short cut. They climbed a few steps and went through a door at the top, and then it was as if they were really on top of the world. Indi spread her arms out wide and spun around on the spot, laughing and whooping as she did. ‘Come on, Eliza, you too,’ she called out without stopping. Eliza hesitated but then couldn’t resist and the two women spun. It was exhilarating and, as every thought in her mind dissolved, Eliza felt free. She went faster and faster as this incredible countryside sped around her, and she knew that here, high above the city, anything could be forgiven, and that this girl who had so little was her own flesh and blood.

  She heard the chime of bells and faltered, and was the first to stumble and land in a heap on the ground. How like life, she thought: it raises you up and then tosses you aside. She watched Indira still spinning and whooping and spotted an eagle flying right above, in the bright expanse of the pale blue sky. Though hot and sticky, the breeze was drying her skin and in that moment, and despite all that had gone on, she felt that she would be happy again one day.

  When Indi came to a standstill, without falling, Eliza got to her feet and went across to her. Then she held out her arms and hugged her sister. When they parted Eliza looked into Indira’s sparkling green eyes.

  ‘You are not alone,’ she said. ‘You’ll have me, bahan, always and you’ll never be alone again. I promise you that.’

  38

  Jaipore

  The wide avenues leading through the arched gateways of the city of Jaipore were packed with soldiers and strings of camels decked out in silks, pompoms, and ribbons. Eliza passed through one arch and then another, the second a deep rosy pink and painted with intricate white flowers. She had remembered the pink city from her childhood and had prepared herself to be disappointed, but Jaipore was everything she had expected and more, the havelis, palaces and balconies all glowing with multiple shades of pink.

  She had arrived at the height of the Hindu festival of Teej, and was lucky to find a vacant room beyond the typical cusped archways of a pretty haveli hotel right in the heart of the town. It was a little ironic that she was there during Teej, part of a series of three festivals during the months of the monsoon, and the time when women prayed to the goddess Parvati and to Shiva to seek blessings for marital bliss. Essentially a festival for women, Teej was all about a wife’s love and devotion towards her husband: something Eliza was unlikely ever to achieve. The love was fine but she was a little uncertain about the principle of devotion.

  She had seen the small red insects emerging from the earth during the rains, but hadn’t realized that the festivals took the name Teej from those insects. But the haveli manager, a small man with piercing dark eyes and an excited air, had explained everything. She had learnt that while in northern India Teej celebrated the arrival of monsoon, in Rajputana it was also celebrated as a relief from the blistering heat of summer, and that this year the rain had come so late that the festival was running later than usual. The man was full of information, wouldn’t stop talking in fact, until Eliza’s head was spinning, but he went on to say that while fasting was essential during Teej, the festival was joyfully alive with the sights and sounds of
women singing and dancing. Eliza decided to go out and see for herself, taking her new Leica with her.

  As soon as she left the haveli she was faced with a town heaving with exuberant people. She gazed at swings that had been hung from the branches of tall trees and garlanded with marigolds. She still found it strange that these were swings for grown women, and not for children, but one look at the faces of women of all ages confirmed their delight. She noticed that their hands were decorated with intricate henna tattoos and their bodies were dripping with jewels. Either they are hoping for a mate, she thought, or they are praying for the health of the mate they already have. No woman wants to be dressed in relentless white for the rest of their lives.

  Eliza found that a fairground had been erected a short distance from the haveli, so she opened up her new Leica, ready to capture the sight of a big wheel and rows of stalls selling dolls and fabric ornaments. Everyone in the whole town seemed to be there, the adults calling out to each other and laughing, while the children tore through the crowds creating mayhem wherever they went. Eliza asked people if they minded being photographed and most nodded and smiled, happy to be caught in their very best clothes. The funny thing was that every time Eliza took the photograph they seemed to suddenly turn serious. She photographed decorated and painted elephants lining the wide straight avenues, their howdahs dripping with silk, and further on she spotted tiny figures of Shiva and Parvati laid out on velvet cloths on the pavements and people crowding to buy them. How wonderful it must be, she thought, in one lonely moment, to be part of a community sharing your religious beliefs. Eliza had given up on God the day the bomb went flying through the air, taking her father for ever.

  As the light grew lemony, dusk began to fall and the town, lit by hundreds and hundreds of tiny clay pots holding only oil and a wick, seemed to step straight from the pages of a fairy tale. The city palace glowed a deep rosy pink, and the hilltop forts loomed above the dark purple of the Aravalli hills. Eliza saw the beauty of it all, but for her it was beauty tinged with a deep melancholy: a recognition that she would never really be part of this. She couldn’t help thinking of Jay and remembering all that had passed between them. She would always treasure the days she had spent with him but it was time to move on. And though a part of her felt like running away, she stayed to watch the dancing, and the sight of so many beautiful women moving as if their very lives depended on it lifted her spirits.

  She was surprised when all of a sudden one of the women near to her grabbed her by the hand and led her into the heart of the throng. At first, embarrassed and clumsy, Eliza shrank from the exposure. She wasn’t dressed for this kind of wild abandon, but after only a few minutes she allowed herself to let go.

  That night she slept like a baby, and the next day decided to wear her nicest Indian clothes. She drew the line of dark kaajal around her eyes, just as the concubines had instructed her, and once again was amazed by the way the green of her eyes came to life. She applied a little rouge to her cheeks and lips and tied her hair with bright ribbons at the nape of her neck.

  She would go down for coffee on the veranda and sit overlooking a lush garden and try to be happy. Then go for a stroll around the town. Today she would fit in, she promised herself.

  She pushed open the heavy carved doors to the veranda but found the place deserted. Either she was too late or too early, and she wondered whether to look for somebody. But a butler came out to place a deep red rose in a vase on her table and then left. She was lost in her thoughts when she heard a man’s voice. She remained completely still for a few moments. Surely it couldn’t be him? She twisted to her side and saw that he was standing there, smiling, his amber eyes full of warmth.

  ‘Jay?’

  He put a finger to his lips and came closer, then knelt before her and took a small box from a pocket in his tunic. He opened it and held it out for her to see.

  She stared at the most beautiful sapphire ring she had ever seen, then glanced at his solemn face.

  ‘It turns out,’ he said, ‘that I cannot live without you.’

  Eliza could not prevent her tears forming and, unable to fully comprehend that this was really happening, could only nod wordlessly.

  ‘I’m so sorry to have put you through all this. I thought I was doing what was right. I want to say sorry and ask if you can forgive me.’

  Eliza still could not speak for a moment. Then she smiled. ‘Let us agree to forgive each other.’

  ‘Come,’ he said, as he got to his feet, then held out both his arms to her. ‘You and I will build our faith in each other, through the dark times and the light.’

  And then she went to him. While they held each other she could feel his heart against her own and knew this was good, even though the surprise of it still coursed through her. Afterwards they sat in silence for a while, the moment too precious to spoil with questions. The sun filtered through the trees and Eliza watched the birds flying about the garden and a couple of chattering monkeys swinging in the branches, and wanted to preserve the memory. For all of her life she wanted to be able to recall this one moment. Because it was perfect, and perfect moments didn’t come around very often. There were questions floating in and out of her mind and soon she would ask them, but for now she held Jay’s hand and experienced a sublime kind of peace, like knowing nothing could go wrong ever again. Minutes passed during which neither spoke.

  He was the first to interrupt the silence. ‘Have you already had coffee?’

  ‘That’s very down to earth, but do you know, I can’t even remember. I seem to have lost the ability to think. In any case, I’m not thirsty now.’

  ‘Then shall we walk, while it’s still cool and quiet in the town?’

  They left the haveli by way of a narrow alley, where only a few cats stretched indolently and failed to move out of their way. Then they went out into the streets of Jaipore. The early morning light revealed the beauty of the town. Everything seemed to shimmer, the pink of the buildings more delicate than they had been the day before. Most of the shops were still closed, and as they passed the Palace of the Four Winds she asked the most pressing question.

  ‘So how, Jay? How is this even possible?’

  ‘My younger brother is to be Maharajah, with Laxmi as the Regent. She will have full control until he comes of age and I shall be her adviser.’

  ‘Your mother agreed to this?’

  ‘She’s fond of you, Eliza, and when she saw how determined I was, she gave her blessing. The British too. We presented it as a fait accompli so that they didn’t really have a leg to stand on.’

  ‘And what about Priya?’ She pulled her mouth down at the corners and raised her brows, intending the question to tease him. ‘I thought she was to be your wife.’

  He made a face. ‘Never. Priya will be forced to take a back seat now, though I doubt Laxmi will insist she dresses in white and is sent back to her family.’

  ‘I feel rather sorry for her.’

  He put an arm around her shoulders. ‘And I like you for it.’

  ‘What’s happened about Chatur?’

  ‘He has been divested of power and made to leave the castle. I have appointed a new dewan.’

  ‘Hurrah to that!’

  ‘Now, the most pressing question is where shall we be married? Do you have a place that’s special to you?’

  ‘You really do mean you gave up being Maharajah for me? Are you sure?’

  He laughed. ‘Don’t change the subject. Where? You can have a fairy-tale wedding here at the city palace – the family are friends of ours – or we can have a quiet affair in Delhi. The city palace lies at the heart of Jaipore and is rather wonderful. You’d think it was the actual city if you didn’t know better, and it has everything from gardens of cypresses and palms to stables. There are weavers whose sole occupation is to weave silk clothes embroidered with gold flowers, and they are just for the elephants. The Maharajah has tamed cheetahs we could use in our marriage procession.’

  ‘En
ough!’

  ‘You choose Delhi?’

  She nodded. ‘The city palace sounds extraordinary and must be every young girl’s dream, but I think a fairy-tale wedding would be rather a sad affair for me, with no family.’

  He stood still and looked into her eyes. ‘Except for Indi.’

  ‘She told you.’

  He nodded. ‘I should have realized. You have the same eyes.’

  ‘Sort of, though mine are the colour of ponds and hers shine like emeralds.’

  ‘Your eyes are beautiful and you are beautiful … Do you remember I once told you that you, Indi and I were linked, but I didn’t know in what way?’

  ‘And that it was our destiny to come together? Is that what this is all about?’

  ‘Who knows? Life has a funny way of working out in unexpected ways.’

  ‘It is good though, isn’t it? You and me. Us?’

  He laughed. ‘It is wonderfully good. And good for Indi too. As she is now going to be my sister-in-law I can take responsibility for her dowry.’

  ‘You couldn’t before?’

  ‘Not very easily. We are bound by certain traditions, as you know.’

  Eliza felt so happy she couldn’t stop smiling. ‘I’m so pleased you have forgiven her. I did worry what would happen.’

  ‘And I know a certain young firebrand whose mother will no longer be able to stand in the way.’

  ‘Dev?’

  ‘The very one.’

  She experienced a sudden flash of anxiety. ‘I’m worried you might one day resent me. You know, for giving up the chance to rule.’

  ‘You worry too much. I think everything in India is going to change before too long, and far more than we realize now. Anyway, I have enough on my hands with the water project.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘By the way, I need to bring you up to speed on that. I’ve had some new ideas and, more importantly, I have the permission to dam the river I talked about. It will make a huge difference to what we’re doing. And don’t forget I’ll be working as an adviser with Laxmi too. But enough of all that. Have I told you how gorgeous you look today and that this is a very auspicious time for an engagement?’

 

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