Mehendi Tides

by Siobhan Malany

  After some time, the group descended the winding stairwell from the interior of the fort. They had ascended the way of the soldiers and descended the way of the sultan and his queen.

  THE VAN RATTLED for miles outside the city before stopping at the entrance of the military barracks.

  “Quiet!” Max yelled back from the driver’s seat, a finger across his lips.

  The expressionless soldier at guard held out a hand, signaling the van to stop. He asked Max a question in the local dialect, peered toward the back seats, and stared intently at Kate. He said something to the other soldiers, who spied through the window at the van full of teenagers, and then nodded to proceed.

  Kate felt vulnerable and leaned toward Tariq, letting his shadow hide her face. She smelled the spicy sweetness of his cologne and perspiration.

  “You are a feringhee,” Sameer remarked to Kate once they cleared the soldiers at the checkpoint. “They think you are married to one of us. That is the only rational thought to explain why you are here and wearing Indian clothing.”

  “Well, hopefully they don’t think I am married to you,” Kate shot back, annoyed.

  “You are a feringhee too, my cousin!” Tariq teased.

  Yasmine laughed and Sameer sneered at them both.

  While Kate’s Celtic coloring drew heavy stares, Sameer and Nasreen were not immune to the locals’ attention with their independent air and full faces aglow from their American upbringing.

  The van proceeded through the massive stone walls that surrounded the military zone. Continuing on, they passed a series of temples until the road became a rocky path. The van’s struts labored along the uneven muddy ground until finally Max brought the van to a halt.

  Kate peered out the Suzuki’s back flap to see a lake that must have been much larger at one time but had receded, leaving a muddy perimeter of broken rock and shell. There was nothing resembling city life, only a few cows spotting the landscape.

  The boys jumped from the back, stretched their backs, and helped the girls climb down the tailgate. They deserted the van and started walking, their shoes sinking into the mud.

  “Oh, my sandal!” cried Yasmine as she plucked her naked foot from the earth, hobbling on one leg.

  She bent to retrieve the muddied bright orange sole. Sameer, a facetious grin across his face, kicked at the ground as if he were kicking a soccer ball into a goal, and mud splattered across his cousin’s kameez.

  “Sameer!” Yasmine froze in shock for only a moment, and, forgetting the sandal, she grabbed a fist of mud and slung it at her cousin. Sameer grabbed Tariq, twisting him around to face the swirling muck.

  “You…ahh!” Tariq huddled toward Sameer as the muck pounded his back.

  Kate, Nasreen, and the two youngest, Azra and Sana, threw off their shoes and ran from the scene squealing. Chunks of mud were flung off their heels. By the time they reached the grassy marsh, they were speckled head to foot.

  “Your face,” laughed Nasreen, pointing to Kate.

  Kate felt the cool soft mud hardening on her cheek. She wiped her face with the back of her hand, smearing muck across her cheek.

  “Much better,” Nasreen joked.

  Boulder and fragmented rock covered the landscape to the receding water’s edge as though a stone fortress had crumbled, sending pieces of towers rolling in all directions until inertia set in and earth hardened. Boulders stacked one on top of each other raised above the water level as a lone tower.

  Sana and Azra were waist deep in the murky lake hanging on to each other for support. The others ran into the cold lake, splashing wildly. Yasmine’s irradiant yellow dupatta floated atop the brown opaque water. Sameer grabbed the free end, unraveling his cousin as he drew the cloth in.

  “Sameer, stop!” She tugged back. “You are such a pain!”

  Hari heaved his lengthy body through the water to Yasmine’s rescue and yanked firmly, sending Sameer stumbling.

  “Tariq! Help me out!”

  Tariq responded and seized the yellow cloth behind Sameer and joined the tug-of-war game.

  “Get him!” Sana yelled to Nasreen and Kate, watching from a safe distance.

  The girls pounced on Tariq, dunking him bellow the murky surface. He released his hold on the scarf, sending Sameer face first into the water. Sameer let go and dived into the water to avoid a face flop, causing Yasmine and Hari to soar backward with a plunge, nearly falling on Azra.

  “Enough!” Max called, resting a hand on his little sister’s shoulder, leading her out of the water.

  Kate tried her best to wring out her hair and clean the mud off her shoes, wading them in the water.

  “Well, I’m a mess, but that was really terrific,” Kate said, enthused.

  “We must show you the fun side of India. It is not all filth and poor people and lots of noises,” Tariq said.

  “Not all filth?” Kate laughed. “Look at us!”

  His smoky blue eyes were even more piercing against his charcoal-grime glistening skin and ruffled damp hair.

  “Take a look at that,” Tariq stammered, still catching his breath.

  Tariq pointed to a stretch of rocky land jutting out into the lake. A massive oval-shaped boulder teetered precariously atop a rectangular one of immensely larger size. The formation’s silhouette appeared like a colossal toddler sitting legs outstretched ready to throw his bald looming head back in a howling brawl.

  “We must climb it!”

  “You are crazy, cousin!” Max exclaimed. “I’m not climbing that.”

  “I’m in!” Kate said excitedly and started trekking across the mud with Tariq, shoes in hand.

  Yasmine strolled behind, hanging onto Hari’s arm with one hand and clasping her soiled sandals with the other. Nasreen followed.

  By the time she reached the coupled rocks, Kate was worn out from lack of exercise. The flank of rock was smooth and seemed not scalable. Tariq had already started climbing the layers of rock and was feeling for grooves on the side for footing. His sinuous muscles showed as he grappled with the rock and heaved himself upward.

  Kate beat her shoes against the rock to remove the hardened mud and gravel and pushed her feet into them, spreading the remaining pebbles around with her toes. She began to climb.

  “Here, give me your hand.”

  Tariq stood at the throat of the stone-faced toddler, extending his hand to Kate. She looked up at him.

  Kate grabbed Tariq’s open palm. His hand closed warmly around hers, and he heaved her upward in one steady motion. She fell against him. He wrapped his arm around her waist, and she felt the strength in his leg anchored in the groove of rock. Tariq’s eyes looked into hers. The horizon spun around her, and for a fleeting moment she felt suspended in his arms.

  “Uh. Hello. Help me!” Nasreen yelled from the side of the rock. “Tariq, I need a hand!”

  Tariq instantly released Kate and rushed to Nasreen’s aid. Kate lost her balance and tripped across his leg and landed flat on the rock, its pointed surface digging into her breastbone.

  “I could have fallen to my death,” Nasreen remarked after stepping on top of the rock. “Thanks, cousin,” she said, letting go of Tariq’s hand and dusting off her salwar. “Kate, what are you doing lying on the rock?”

  “Enjoying the view,” she answered smartly as she stood up and rubbed her sore breastbone.

  Tariq flashed her an apologetic smile.

  “It’s beautiful up here. Well worth the climb,” Nasreen shouted down to Max and Sameer, who remained below with Azra and Sana.

  In the distant horizon, Kate could make out the diminished outline of the city, the haze caressing the spires and domes and small clusters of buildings disjointed and disconnected from the others. She sat, legs dangling over the side, feeling the wind across her face and breathing in the unadulterated air. Tariq sat a comfortable distance from her and she studied his silhouette as he scanned the landscape. A wave of hair fell across his eyes. Kate felt a momentary sense of unconditional fr
eedom, the touch of wind on her face, and the feel of her waist where Tariq had held her.

  MAX MANEUVERED THE Suzuki along a half-paved gravel road. They had driven several kilometers through the barren and broken stretch of land heading back to the city. Suddenly, the graceful curves of ancient domes peered above the tree line. As the van approached, the trees parted, the rocks turned to pebble walkways and square gardens, and a stunning mosque came into full view.

  “Wow!” Kate exclaimed, wiping a layer of sweat and lake silt from her brow as she stepped out of the van, the rising humidity threatening rain. “It’s incredible!”

  “They are tombs,” Max remarked, extending his arm in a presentation of the cluster of majestic domes that served as resting places for dynasty rulers.

  A small man appeared from the arched entryway, luring the group forward with his sweeping soft gestures first to the raised platform and then inside the mosque.

  “Welcome to the Qutb Shahi tombs,” he announced, waiting for the group to still before speaking more.

  His placatory voice billowed into a cloud of whispers rising within the mortuary haven, then diffusing to a soundless spirit. He led the group down a long narrow stairway. Kate slid her hands along the damp concrete walls for guidance as the outside light faded, her eyes adjusting to the underground darkness. She was beginning to feel hungry, and the walls seemed oppressing, as if they were slowly closing in.

  In the center of the dim lower chamber sat a perfectly round stone. The symmetrically painted lines curved to a point on the stone’s surface creating a rotating illusion. The walls were embossed with Indo-Persian style inflections encased by arches. A crisscross pattern in the stone connected the arches, creating a continuous arcade of tunnels and dead ends. The guide switched between broken English, Urdu, and a local dialect.

  Kate lowered herself slowly to sit on one of the marble squares facing the central stone of the mortuary bath, which now appeared to Kate to be spinning.

  “No. No. Please, no sit, royal bath!” the guide’s voice burst from a whisper to a vibrating echo trapped within the vaulted chamber.

  The reverberating sounds confused Kate. Tariq offered her his hand. She faltered, and he grabbed her elbow with his free hand to steady her.

  “Let’s get you out of here,” he whispered in her ear. “I can’t understand his dialect anyway,” he joked.

  She could still feel his breath on her ear as they mounted the stairs and she leaned into him for support.

  A slit of light opened up into a charming garden with wildflowers and miniature temples.

  Kate breathed in the scent of jasmine and looked up at the balustrade-lined terrace that extended over the courtyard. The humidity caused a tingling sensation across her forehead.

  “Sit here,” Tariq said, pointing to a bench shaded by a blood-orange bougainvillea.

  She plunked down on the bench in the garden hoping he would sit next to her. Instead, Tariq walked along the path and out of the garden. Kate closed her eyes. Her head ached. She imagined herself on the side of the rock high above the ground, stretching for Tariq’s hand.

  She opened her eyes; Tariq stood in front of her. She gasped.

  “Here, drink some water,” he said, handing her a jug.

  The water was warm and tasted stale, but her mind became clearer. Tariq looked around the garden awkwardly.

  “I’ll get the others,” he said, turning away.

  “Sit with me,” Kate blurted. “Tell me about Nepal. I want to hear.”

  Tariq looked back at her for a lingering moment, contemplating her request. She thought he would walk away again, but he returned to the bench and joined her.

  They sat for a few moments and Tariq told her about his backpacking trip. At one point, he had been separated from the group. He was near exhaustion and low on food when he ran into another group of hikers. As he spoke, she could feel his euphoria over his experience, both terrifying at times and exhilarating.

  “You had the courage to come to India…alone.”

  Kate straightened.

  “I have never seen anyone with hair like yours, the color of mehendi,” he said, raising his hand as though he wanted to touch her forehead, but did not.

  She smiled.

  “Do you feel better?” he asked.

  “Much.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t faint,” he said. “I would have had to carry you up those treacherous stairs.”

  The thought of him carrying her, his long arms under her legs and around her back, made her skin tingle.

  After sitting together awhile, they heard Sana’s voice resonate from the stairwell as the group ascended from the underworld and out into the garden.

  “Enough for today?” Yasmine asked.

  Kate nodded.

  “We came up for a bit of air,” Tariq explained.

  “We worried we lost you in the catacombs,” Sameer joked.

  “No, we didn’t, Sameer!” Nasreen snapped, rolling her eyes. “Like I would leave you in the catacombs! Are you feeling okay?”

  “Yes, just a little hungry, I guess.”

  “We will stop down the road for lunch,” Max responded as he caught his breath from climbing the steps.

  AUNTY SAMINA HAD packed egg sandwiches, spiced beef patties, mango slices, cinnamon cookies and a thermos of tea. It was the best lunch Kate had ever tasted.

  The day was perfect, she thought, just as the first few raindrops fell. She couldn’t remember laughing so much with a group of teenagers; certainly not in high school. By the time the group had packed up lunch, the rain beat down, and they ran into the van for shelter.

  Max had driven them to the boundaries of civilization—from Mughal ruins to a military fortress. When they finally reached Banjara Hills, they must have smelled like algae scum mixed with rain and dirt. Rahmsing gave them a peculiar look and made them chai and potato-filled samosas with green sauce that they quickly devoured.

  After the cousins had left, Kate removed her soiled clothes and dressed in sweats and a T-shirt. She brushed her teeth using the water in the cooler by the kitchen sink and washed the crusty mud from her face. She fell into bed, too tired to bathe or scratch at the mosquito bites covering her body.

  In her sleep, she danced barefooted in a flowing crimson and ginger gown, Tariq twirling with her through the royal fort, across the terrace, and into the gardens. She dreamt of them sitting on the bench.

  This time, he touched her hair and kissed her.

  Chapter 12

  Summoned to Marriage

  Chicago 1998

  Kate paused, panting and sweating despite the cool spring temperature. She stared into the back of the halfway filled U-Haul trailer. Boxes and furniture were interlocked with engineering perfection, leaving no crevice unfilled.

  She had been loading boxes all morning, mindlessly lifting, rolling, and heaving. She lifted her navy sweatshirt over her head and tossed it just inside the trailer. The crisp air tinged her warm skin.

  Neil was moving, driving the U-Haul down to Austin, Texas, in the morning. She agreed to help him knowing she probably should not. Since he defended his thesis and his position at the University of Texas was set, Neil was at ease, relaxed, and offered his friendship. Kate told him about Krishna’s mother’s death and Nasreen’s adoption of a baby in Pakistan, but not about seeing Tariq after ten years. Helping Neil move kept her distracted from sinking into her own thoughts, and she hated to admit that she was desperate for his friendship.

  Krishna was on her way to India, Nasreen would leave for Pakistan any day, Tariq was somewhere in New York, and Neil was leaving for good to a job and life after graduate school. Kate closed her eyes, willing time to be still for a moment or speed forward, she wasn’t quite sure which.

  “You good?” Neil asked, gripping her shoulder.

  The extra weight rocked her slightly off balance.

  Neil sat on the edge of the trailer to catch his own breath.

  “Thanks for your
help, Kate.”

  She nodded. “Look at all the empty space. You can fit another apartment’s worth of stuff in here.”

  “That’s all it is—stuff. I should have gotten rid of everything. It will be nice to start fresh.”

  Kate tried not to focus on how insensitive Neil’s statement sounded as she stared at the shadows in the truck.

  “Come along. I’d love the company!” Neil’s weary face broke into a broad smile.

  “Just crawl in. Hitch a ride to Texas?” she questioned.

  “I will let you sit up front in the cabin,” he joked.

  “It’s a great offer,” she said sarcastically.

  “Come on, I’ll buy you dinner. We’re done here.”

  “Thanks, but I’m tired. I’m going home.”

  She met his eyes then and realized this would be goodbye.

  “You seem lost in thought, my friend. What’s up?” Neil asked.

  “Just remembering,” she said. “Remember we snuck onto Lighthouse Beach at night, hid from the scanning headlights, and swam in Lake Michigan?”

  “You were so cold,” he said, smiling.

  “Because the water was freezing! But it was exhilarating. It was fun.”

  “You sure you don’t want to have dinner?”

  “No. Thanks.” She backed away. “I’ll be over in the morning to see you off,” she lied, hurrying to her car, avoiding any formal goodbye.

  THAT EVENING KATE heard her roommate come in late. 12:35, the clock radio mocked. Flap. 12:36. Flap. 12:37…

  She switched on the lamp on her nightstand, opened the bottom door, and grabbed Nasreen’s letters. She shuffled through the ruffled pages finding the place she had read last.

  The man Nasreen referred to as “M” in her letters occupied the pages less and less, but the feverishness with which Nasreen longed to be engaged remained in the thickness of the print and frequency of exclamation points.

  “I don’t feel I belong to anyone or anyplace. Most girls would hate the idea of belonging to someone, but I really need that!” Nasreen wrote near the end of the summer in her last letter to Kate.