by Beryl Young
At last, a real lead for finding Shanti. As the doctor opened his car door, Ben said, “Thanks, and thanks for taking such good care of my grandmother.”
“You are most welcome, Ben. I like your grandmother.”
Ben looked at the doctor’s kind face. “I’ve never met a Sikh before. Rani told me you wear a turban because you’re a Sikh.”
“Indeed, it is our tradition to grow our hair long and to keep it covered. Here, you see, we also wear this bracelet called a kara.” He pulled up his shirt cuff to show Ben the metal bracelet on his wrist.
“Do Sikhs believe in reincarnation?”
“Indeed, like Hindus, we believe in the immortality of the soul. We believe souls have many lives.”
“I’ve been thinking a lot about death. I mean, since my dad died. I just have a hard time understanding how the souls of dead people can come back to earth.” Ben wondered why he was talking so much to a man he hardly knew.
“I’m sorry about your father, Ben. What happens after death is a big question and it is good that you are thinking about it.” He got into the car, leaned out the window and ran his hand through his long beard. “Perhaps you will find the answer here in India.”
“Thanks, Dr. Dhaliwal.” Ben said. He looked at the paper and rushed to find Rani.
In the office, they quickly keyed in the doctor’s email address. Leaning over the keyboard, Rani helped Ben compose a message.
Dear Dr. Vivek Mukherjee
I am a Canadian in India with my grandmother who would like to contact a pen pal she had in the 1940s. The pen pal’s name was Shanti Mukherjee and she went to the Calcutta Senior Girls’ School. Are you related to her? Dr. Dhaliwal here in Mahabalipuram gave me your address and says to say hello.
Thank you for your help.
Ben Leeson
c/o [email protected]
“I’ll check the school site once more,” Ben said.
“Last chance,” Rani said.
The site came up, but there were no messages about Shanti. Ben clicked off the computer and stared at the blank screen. How many times had he rushed to the computer, sure that someone would be contacting him about Shanti? He was sick of hoping.
“It’s time to give up on that idea,” Rani said. “I’m sure Dr. Mukherjee will answer your email.”
“Ganesh had better hurry up and make it happen. We’ve only got six more days in India.”
Ben and Rani went swimming every day, and Gran took longer and longer walks around the garden. Sitting on the veranda at either side of a small wicker table, Gran and Ben were having lunch made by Rani and her mother. Ben looked across at his grandmother. She was different since she’d been sick. She never mentioned Shanti, and she seemed to have forgotten all about finding her. Now, he was the one who was obsessed with the search.
Maybe he should tell her he’d emailed Dr. Mukherjee, but there was a chance the doctor might not be Shanti’s brother, and he didn’t want to get Gran’s hopes up. Besides it would be cool to surprise her.
Gran’s appetite was back and she looked like she was enjoying the lunch of rice and dhal. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, Gran. I was scared you were going to die.”
“For a few hours there I wouldn’t have minded!” she laughed. “But thanks to you, Ben, I got the help I needed.”
Gran was thanking him for helping her. He was the grandson who’d abandoned her in the hospital and then scared her so much by talking about cobras.
Gran put down her glass of lemonade. “I’m sorry I panicked when you told me about the snakes. It’s an irrational fear that I’m not proud of.”
“I feel awful that I was late coming to see you in the hospital. I got so involved in what we were seeing, I forgot about the time.” That didn’t sound very good. “I don’t mean I forgot about you, Gran.”
“I know what you mean, Ben,” Gran said. “It was so hard being stuck in that hospital bed, thinking something might have happened to you. I feel responsible for you here in India.”
“We’re responsible for each other, Gran.”
“I’m proud of you, Ben. How you took care of yourself when I was in the hospital.” Gran finished the meal and smiled at him.
She had the same strong face as his father. “My dad worried about me too. You and Dad are a lot alike.”
“You make me think of your dad, Ben.”
Ben shifted in his seat. “I wish I hadn’t been so mean, blaming you for his smoking. It wasn’t your fault.”
Gran nodded her head. “When something sad happens we’d all like to have someone to blame.”
Now seemed like a good time. “I have something for you, Gran.” He went to a drawer in his room and came back with the baseball cap that said DELHI DEVILS. He’d decided not to confess that he’d left her hat behind in the taxi. It wasn’t exactly lying, and he had bought her a new one.
“Well, well. Thank you. I looked for my hat, but I couldn’t find it. This will do nicely.” She tried it on and admired herself in the mirror. Ben had to admit that, for an old lady, she looked good.
That afternoon, after playing chess with Rani, Ben checked the computer again. His heart was beating fast as he logged in, but there was no message from Dr. Mukherjee. He’d been right not to mention anything to Gran.
There was a message from Lauren and his mother. They were relieved that Gran was doing well, and they were busy shovelling more snow.
When Ben got out of bed the following morning, there was no sign of Gran in their bungalow. He dressed and searched for her over by the Gurins’ bungalow. Rani hadn’t seen Gran either, but by the time they’d looked all over the grounds, Gran was coming up from the beach toward them.
Her face was glowing. “I went for an early morning walk to the lighthouse and saw the most interesting thing.”
“Tell us,” Rani and Ben said together.
“There were two white-headed eagles circling the tower. Huge ones like our bald eagles, Ben.” She stopped to catch her breath. “The priest came out and put food on a rock for them. They swooped right down and grabbed the food. I’ve never seen eagles so close!”
Rani was almost jumping up and down. “Oh, Mrs. Leeson, that means you will have good fortune!”
“I wish.” Gran’s smile faded. “I’m afraid the good fortune I need most in India is not going to happen.”
“But it will, Mrs. Leeson,” Rani said. “Now that you have seen the eagles at the lighthouse, it will.”
“I’m afraid we’re out of time. Our trip is almost over.” Gran sighed.
“Did you check for an email this morning?” Rani whispered to Ben.
“Yep.”
“Any luck?”
“Nope.”
That afternoon, they went in Prem’s car to see a famous temple not far from town. “Such a handsome hat, Mrs. Leeson,” Mrs. Gurin said.
“Ben chose it for me,” Gran answered.
The massive grey stone temple sat in the middle of a field of grass. Ben and Gran were amazed to see the outside was completely covered in carvings. A group of schoolgirls in white blouses and navy skirts sat cross-legged in front of it, drawing the figures while their teachers wandered among them, their bright saris blowing in the wind.
“The carvings on this temple are very old,” Prem explained. “They show a Hindu legend that tells us that all gods, animals and humans sprang from the source of the Ganges River.”
The carvings were of men and women harvesting and winnowing rice, washing clothes, cooking on open fires and playing with their children.
“Look at the tigers and elephants!” said Gran.
“All the Hindu gods are there too,” said Mrs. Gurin.
“Ben, there’s Ganesh!” Rani pointed to a carving of the elephant god high on the temple. “See, on either side are his parents, Shiva and Parvati.”
“Poor Shiva chopping off his son’s head by mistake,” Prem said.
“Yes, but now we have a boy god especially to help children,
” Rani said.
“I’m waiting …,”Ben said, winking at her.
Gran and Mrs. Gurin were resting on a grassy knoll when the others joined them. They watched the schoolchildren and their teachers pack up their drawings and leave in a van.
“Reminds me that I’ll be back at school next week,” said Rani.
“And I’ll be on my way back to Canada,” Ben said.
It was three days since Gran had come out of the hospital. The time was going too fast, and still no Shanti.
As soon as they returned Ben and Rani rushed to the computer. There was one message.
Greetings to Mr. Ben Leeson
I have been away for two days so did not receive your message until this morning. I believe that the Shanti Mukherjee you seek is indeed my sister who did write to a Canadian pen pal many years ago. Shanti is widowed now and presently lives with her daughter’s family in Rishikesh. She has two grandsons. There is something your grandmother must know before she meets Shanti. It would be best if you come first to Bangalore so I can explain. It is on the way to Rishikesh.
With good wishes
Dr. Vivek Mukherjee
Gran sat up as she saw the two of them running across the grass to the veranda.
“Gran! Gran! The eagles brought you good luck,” Ben called. “We’ve just had an email from Dr. Mukherjee, Shanti’s brother.” He stopped to catch his breath. “We’ve found Shanti and she has grandchildren, just like you!”
Gran gasped. “Shanti is alive. I can’t believe it.” She stood up and did a little dance. “Is it really true?”
Ben laughed. “She lives in the north, in Rishikesh, Gran.”
Giggling at Gran’s dance, Rani said, “It is a famous place close to the source of the Ganges River.”
Gran turned to Rani. “You don’t mean the place that was represented in the cave carvings today?”
“Yes,” said Rani. “It is amazing that we should have been to that temple today!”
“I can’t believe any of this.” Gran said, sitting down. “After all these years. To think I’ve finally found Shanti.”
“Her brother wants to see us first to explain something,” Ben said.
“What could he have to explain?” Gran said. “You don’t think Shanti is dying, do you?”
Oh, no … not more dying. Ben turned away.
Gran didn’t look happy anymore. “I couldn’t bear it. To come all this way …” She shook her head. “No, I think I know what it is. Shanti’s brother knows she’s angry with me. He’ll tell me she refuses to see me.”
“I don’t think it could be that, Mrs. Leeson,” Rani said.
“Whatever it is, I have to know.” Gran had that determined look again. “Please email Dr. Mukherjee to tell him we’re coming, Ben.”
Within an hour a reply came from Dr. Mukherjee, giving them the address of his clinic in the centre of Bangalore. Prem agreed to make arrangements for them to leave early the next morning for the ten-hour bus ride. Gran went to invite the Gurins for a farewell dinner in town that night. In a few hours, Ben would have to say goodbye to Rani.
Ben and Gran were waiting outside when Mrs. Gurin and Rani came across the lawn dressed in long saris.
“Oh, how lovely!” Gran said. “I feel very plain in my travelling clothes.”
It was the first time Ben had seen Rani in anything other than western clothes. Her light pink sari had a border of deeper pink trimmed with silver that curved over her shoulders. Her hair was loose, and glistened in the evening light. Coloured glass bracelets jangled up one arm. An elastic bandage was wrapped around her other arm. She smiled at Ben’s face as he stared at her long gold earrings and diamond nose pin.
Following the others, Ben walked beside Rani on the way to town. At the side of the path, blossoming parajit trees flooded the warm night air with a honey-sweet smell. Not for the first time in India, Ben felt as though he were part of a movie set.
Prem had reserved a private room in the restaurant, and they sat around a table spread with a white cloth.
“You might like to try some goat curry,” Rani teased Ben.
“I forbid anyone to eat goat curry tonight!” Ben answered.
Rani batted her eyelashes, showing the black kohl around her eyes. She put her hand on her heart. “My Canadian hero,” she sighed.
The table was loaded as the waiter brought dish after dish of rice, breads and vegetable curries. For a moment things were quiet, then Gran spoke up. “I’d like to ask you something that’s been on my mind, Rani. You’re the young woman here. Tell me what you think about arranged marriages.”
Ben squirmed in his seat. This was embarrassing. Why would Gran question Rani about this right now? At their last dinner together.
The question didn’t seem to bother Rani, who answered right away. “The girls at school all feel that because we’ll go to university and work out in the world, we’ll most probably meet our future husband ourselves. We will know if we are attracted to someone.”
Were her cheeks a little flushed?
Prem added. “I feel the same way, Mrs. Leeson. Though of course, we have great respect for our elders and want them to be part of our decision.”
“Yes,” said Rani. “I would certainly want approval from my mother and Prem. They know me best and want me to marry the right person.”
Gran was thoughtful. “Things have changed then, from the way it was for the older generation of Indian women?”
“Oh, yes,” said Mrs. Gurin. “My dear husband was chosen for me. I saw him for the first time on my wedding day.” She smiled at Gran. “Of course, I grew to love him very much. My parents had chosen wisely for me.”
“Things are different now,” Prem said. “It used to be that a dowry was required of the wife’s family. Now the giving of dowries is against the law, but still it is a custom for families to give money, sometimes even a cow, to the prospective husband.”
“You mean you get a cow when you choose a wife?” Ben asked.
“Cows are valuable, you see,” Prem said.
“Not nearly as valuable as a good wife!” Rani said, making everyone laugh. “I’m glad compulsory dowries are against the law now.”
Gran beamed around the table at everyone. “Thanks to our friends, the Gurin family, for giving us so much help and being such good company. You will always have a special place in my heart.”
Mine too, thought Ben.
On the way back to the resort, Rani said to Ben, “Now can you understand how seeing the eagles brought good fortune to your grandmother?”
“I think Ganesh had a hand — maybe a trunk — in it too, don’t you? All those lemon sweets I gave him!” Ben said.
“I’m happy for your grandmother, but sad you’re leaving so soon.”
“I’ll come back to India one day. I promise you that. And you won’t need eagles to tell you when.” Ben moved his fingers over an imaginary keyboard. “I’ll be sending an email!”
When they returned to the compound, Ben asked Rani to wait while he got something from his room.
“This is to help you remember me.” Ben put his red baseball cap that said CANADA on Rani’s head. She looked so awesome that his heart gave a thump. He almost reached out to take her hand, but stopped himself. All of a sudden Ben felt shy. “Like it?” he asked.
“Yep,” answered Rani with a toss of her long hair.
Day Thirteen
AS THE DRIVER RELEASED the air brakes and backed the bus out of the terminal, Ben had a last glimpse of Rani. She wore the baseball cap and she was waving at him. Waving with her bandaged arm. That meant it was better.
Sitting in the front seat, Ben turned and looked back at the other passengers on the bus. He and Gran were the only foreigners. He had the window seat and struggled to open the window to get rid of the stuffy air, but it wouldn’t move. Gran was kicking aside the peanut shells and plastic wrap under her feet. Then the driver flicked a switch, sending a blast of Bollywood music out of the speak
ers above their heads.
The bus lurched onto the highway and soon they were passing through fields of tall green sugar cane. At the side of the road, two white bullocks with long curved horns pulled a cart loaded with cane stalks. A local bus careened past them on the narrow road, with passengers packed inside and piles of luggage teetering on the overloaded rooftop. Farther along, women in saris marched at the side of the road, balancing stones on their heads, delivering them to workmen who were repairing the road.
Inside the bus, the raucous movie music blared; passengers smoked and talked incessantly, babies cried, the air got heavier. Ben wrote Rani’s name in the dust on the window. Suddenly, Gran leaned over him, shouting to be heard above the music. “See across from us, one row back — that man with the woven basket beside him? I’ve been watching. The basket is moving!”
Ben leaned across Gran to look. Not only was the basket shifting on the seat, but something inside was pushing against the lid and the only thing that kept it from opening were two handles crossed over the top. As Ben watched, the basket gave a violent jerk.
“It’s a snake!” Gran was on her feet. She was shouting. “I know it! It’s a live snake!” She scrambled across Ben to get to the window seat as far away from the aisle as possible. She put her face in her hands and her shoulders rocked from side to side. Muffled whimpering sounds came from behind her hands. Ben hoped she wouldn’t scream again.
Gran lowered her shaking hands and turned to him. “This is my worst nightmare come true. There’s a poisonous snake right beside us in this bus. Get it away, Ben!”
Ben tried to tell her what he knew about performing cobras. “It’s okay, Gran. Rani said snake charmers take the poison sacs out of their snakes. They’re completely harmless.”
“I don’t care!” She poked his arm. “Poison sacs or not, there’s still a live snake inside that basket and the stupid man hasn’t even tied the lid on! I can’t stand it. Do something. Please!”
Sure enough, a narrow flute rested beside the man. It was a snake charmer with his snake all right, almost certainly a cobra, and those straw handles were quite flimsy. He stared at the man who had his eyes closed and seemed to be sleeping.