‘I shaved my beard,’ said Gurpreet, glaring at him. ‘That’s good enough.’
‘Relax, I was just curious. Keep cool, Preeto,’ he said as Gurpreet shook his fist at him.
‘Oh, she’s finally here,’ exclaimed Gurpreet.
‘And we weren’t waiting for anyone, right, Preeto?’
Gurpreet didn’t answer. He was too busy shining his shoes with the back of his trousers. Then he got up and walked over to the two girls.
‘So how are you two?’ he asked self-consciously, feeling Vicky’s eyes on him. ‘Shall we go into the tuck shop and have something?’
The girls nodded and walked into the canteen. He followed them. Vicky turned to look at him and their eyes met. She was smiling. He knew Mili and Jatin were all ears, so he refrained from saying anything and gestured with his hands instead – how do I look? Vicky pretended to push a lock of hair behind her ear and gesticulated with her fingers – perfect.
Gurpreet grinned. ‘Two minutes, I’ll just be back,’ he mumbled as he rushed out of the canteen. He jumped gleefully over the bench outside. Then he looked over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of Vicky and crashed into a group of students.
Chapter Ten
A few days later, Vicky stood near the fence pretending to look for something. It was the common fence between the STH playing field and MP College football field. She watched warily as Gurpreet kicked the ball hard. It bounced off the fence and Gurpreet ran towards it. As his feet shuffled the ball around, he slipped a note into Vicky’s hand before kicking the ball back to his team. Vicky looked around the field furtively. No one had noticed. Miss Agatha was busy giving instructions to the other students. She opened the crumpled piece of paper in her hand and began to read it. Everything to proceed according to plan. Will be waiting for you at the end of Hide-and-Seek Road at 4 o’clock. Don’t be late.
Vicky looked at Mili who was busy playing badminton. She pursed her lips. Coaxing Mili wasn’t going to be easy today. She gestured to Mili to stop playing and pulled her to the edge of the field, behind a deodar tree. She showed her the note. ‘I met Gurpreet and Jatin yesterday,’ she whispered. ‘We’re going for a picnic. This evening. It’s all planned out.’
‘No, Vicky, we’re not going.’
‘Come on, Mili. Don’t be a stick-in-the-mud.’
‘If you want to go, you go, but I’m not coming.’
‘Mili, this is our last chance. To go for a picnic. The monsoons will soon be here. And after monsoons it’ll be too cold.’
‘But how can I forget Prof. Raven has given us a final warning? And if this time we get caught, he’s not going to forgive us.’
‘We won’t get caught. The plan is foolproof. We’ve worked out the details. At four o’clock we leave. After the last class.’
‘I don’t know …’ Mili answered dubiously. ‘But we have to be back in the hostel before eight,’ she added.
‘We won’t be coming back to the hostel.’
‘What?’
‘The boys have booked some rooms,’ said Vicky, pushing back her glasses. ‘In a nearby rest house.’
‘You’re crazy, Vicky. You think the warden is going to give us permission?’
‘We don’t need her permission. We just sign the register. That we’re off to our local guardians.’
‘I see. But what if she finds out?’
‘She won’t, Mili. Half the boarders are going out this evening. She’s not going to call up each one to find out if they’re really there.’
Mili did not answer. She seemed engrossed in looking at a bulbul that was trilling at the top of its voice from the upper branches of the tree. ‘All right, then,’ she finally said.
Vicky could see she still wasn’t convinced. She put her arms around her neck. Mili did not turn around to face her friend but busied herself in plucking the needle-like leaves of the tree.
‘Come on, Mili. Be a sport. Learn to live for the moment.’ Vicky stopped speaking and dribbled the ball that had rolled over and stopped at her feet. She threw it back to its owner. She continued, ‘That was one lesson Mummum learnt after Papa’s death – to live for the moment. When Papa died, she had many regrets. There were holidays they’d planned but never went to. Promises made but never kept … She keeps telling us – do everything. Never have regrets …’
‘But if we get caught, I’ll never ever listen to you again.’
‘You two, what are you up to?’ called out Miss Agatha, who had spotted them behind the tree.
‘Coming, miss,’ Mili replied and picked up her badminton racquet.
Later that day, Vicky and Mili rushed to their room as soon as the last class was over. Throwing their books on the bed, they began to get dressed. Vicky pulled on a pair of jodhpurs while Mili hurriedly pulled out a pink silk kurta from the wardrobe.
Vicky watched Mili brush her hair as she ran a quick comb through her own. ‘You’ve inherited your mother’s smooth skin and silky hair,’ she said. ‘While I have Mummum’s horrible hair and Papa’s weak eyes,’ she sulked. She tried to uncurl a lock of hair. But as soon as she let go, it curled right back – ping. ‘I wish I had long, straight hair like you,’ she sighed.
Mili laughed. ‘If you had long hair, it would always be matted like that of the three witches in Macbeth. Birds would build nests and lay eggs in them and you wouldn’t even come to know.’
Vicky scowled and stuck out her tongue at Mili.
‘I used to love watching Ma get dressed for dinner every evening,’ said Mili, looking at herself in the mirror and fiddling with her earrings. ‘It was such an elaborate affair. Five or six maids would hold out her outfits one by one and Ma would take her time deciding which one to wear. Then once the sari had been selected, the same procedure would be carried out for the jewellery.’
‘I remember,’ replied Vicky. ‘I was there on a couple of occasions. But hurry now. The boys must be waiting.’
Just as they were about to step out of the room, footsteps were heard in the corridor.
Mili looked at her and raised a brow.
‘Quick. Hide,’ Vicky whispered.
They hid behind the curtain. It was Angel. She came into the room and started packing a bag. Vicky remembered – she had mentioned that morning that she was going to pay her aunt a visit that weekend. She was humming a song completely out of tune. Mili began to giggle. Angel looked around. Vicky quickly covered Mili’s mouth with her hand and held her breath.
Vicky let go of Mili and let out a long sigh of relief as Angel left the room. Clutching their bags, the two friends quickly signed the register, then made their way to the Hide-and-Seek Road. The boys were waiting in a jeep at the end of the dirt track. Gurpreet was behind the wheel and grinned happily at Vicky as she got into the jeep and sat down beside him. He looked back to make sure Mili and Jatin were seated, then with a shout of ‘Sat Sri Akal’ started the engine.
The four of them chattered and joked for a while. But soon the hum of the jeep’s engine and the weariness that comes with attending boring lectures for an entire week lulled Vicky into a deep sleep. She was awakened when the jeep crunched to an abrupt halt. Opening her eyes, she saw before her a vast expanse of undulating land. Little smooth hillocks, unmarred by stones and rocks and covered with grass as soft as moss, rolled into one another.
Jumping off the jeep, Vicky took off her shoes and padded over the grass barefoot. She looked at Mili and winked, her eyes flashing underneath her broad-rimmed glasses. ‘Shall we?’ she asked.
‘Yes, let’s,’ Mili replied with a grin.
The two of them darted off to the top of a smooth hillock. Climbing right to the top, they lay down on their sides. Then closing their eyes, they went rolling down the hill like Jack and Jill, right down to the bottom. They sat up laughing and spluttering. Vicky dusted the mud and grass from her clothes and looked at Mili who was holding her head to get over the dizziness. She smiled as the boys came towards them, carrying the picnic hamper, rugs and blankets.<
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Spreading a rug, she sat down and looked around. She noticed a couple of horses tethered to a nearby tree. Their faces were buried in the chaff bags tied around their necks. Eventually they’d come up with a mouthful, which they chewed lazily. Vicky’s eyes lit up and she pushed back her glasses. ‘Anyone coming riding and exploring these hills with me, before it gets too dark?’ she asked.
‘Me, me, me,’ shouted Gurpreet, putting up his hand.
‘Put your hand down, Preeto, we’re not in class,’ said Jatin.
Vicky laughed as Gurpreet pulled a face at Jatin, put his forefinger over his lips and mimicked, ‘We’re not in class.’
‘Anyone else?’ she asked, her eyes roving over the other two.
They shook their heads.
‘No, you two go ahead,’ said Jatin.
‘Both of you are so lazy,’ said Vicky as Gurpreet pulled her to her feet.
‘What if the owners of the horses come back before you do?’ asked Mili, a frown creasing her forehead.
‘Just make up an excuse,’ replied Vicky. Patting the horse confidently, she swung her leg across its back. She loved horses. She had been riding them ever since she was five. Riding came to her as easily as eating, sleeping or playing truant from class.
She pointed to a hill in the distance. ‘Let’s go there,’ she said as she kicked the horse. Soon they were galloping towards it. They got off the horses when they reached the top. With a look of awe on their faces, they sauntered towards a jutting piece of rock on the edge of the hill. Gurpreet whistled. From that vantage point, they could see for miles and miles around. A river meandered down the hill surrounded by lush vegetation on either side. Cottages and fields could be discerned in the valley below. Cars no bigger than toys in a doll’s house could be seen on the road. And beyond the valley were a chain of mountains – purple and formidable.
As she sat down on the rock, Vicky took off her glasses. ‘What the devil!’ she exclaimed. ‘This place is amazing.’ As she wiped her glasses, a mist slowly began to descend on them. Within minutes the entire place was engulfed in a fog so thick that all Vicky could see was Gurpreet and the rock they were sitting on. It was as though they were sitting at the end of the world. Nothing existed beyond that rock, which seemed to be hanging in mid-air. Like when she was little and used to think the earth was flat and if she kept walking on and on and on she would reach the very end.
Just then a vulture flew over their heads and they ducked. And in a split second, the atmosphere had turned eerie. The vulture was circling their heads as though portending some evil and Vicky got a sinking feeling at the pit of her stomach. She shook her head. Since when had she become superstitious like Mili?
She was about to put on her glasses, when Gurpreet pulled them out of her hands.
‘You have such beautiful eyes,’ he said. ‘Why do you hide them behind these hideous Gandhi spectacles?’
‘My eyes are very weak. Inherited it from Papa. I was born with the sight of a seventy-year-old. I’ve worn glasses since the age of two.’
‘Really?’
Vicky nodded, her mind far away. One of her earliest memories was of waking up at night in her room, frightened. She must have been three or maybe four. It was summer and Mummum had left the window open. Her bed was right next to the window. She could hear the leaves of the trees rustling in the breeze outside, but couldn’t see a thing. She groped for her glasses, but couldn’t find them. Ayah had told her a ghost story that night and the trees were now assuming the shape of ghosts and witches. And then she heard another sound – the crickets. And then a flapping sound. A bat. It made her sit up and scream. Papa was beside her in a trice. ‘Relax, princess, it was just a dream,’ he whispered, as he carried her to his room. Clinging to him, she gradually drifted off to sleep. She didn’t know then that it was the last time she would be sleeping with him. The next day Mummum moved her bed to Claudia’s room, much to her big sister’s annoyance.
Vicky sighed and plucked at the moss growing on the rock. ‘You know, Gurpreet … I still remember what Papa smelt like when I slept with him the last time,’ she said, with a shaky laugh. ‘He died a few months after.’ She swallowed and her voice changed, but she carried on speaking. ‘I used to feel very secure. Sleeping in his powerful arms. They felt like a protective shield around me.’ Her voice had dropped to a whisper. ‘I’ve never felt secure. After he died.’
Gurpreet covered her hand with his and gently caressed it. ‘What did he die of?’ he asked softly.
‘He died in an accident. Where he worked.’ She got up abruptly. Suddenly she felt very self-conscious. She had revealed more about herself than was necessary. ‘I think we’d better go back and join the rest,’ she said.
‘Yes, I think we should. Else they might start getting worried.’
They did not speak much after that. Vicky was grateful for the silence. And their friendship had been permanently sealed by the intimacy they had just shared. They tethered the horses to the tree where they had found them, then walked hand in hand down the hill to where the others were. By the time they reached Jatin and Mili, they were talking again and laughing quietly.
Jatin winked at Gurpreet and said, ‘Someone’s looking cosy.’
‘Aren’t they?’ Mili enthused. ‘Won’t it be great if they fall in love?’
‘Stop your nonsense, Mili. We were just riding and chatting,’ said Vicky.
Gurpreet gave a loud sigh. Holding his hand theatrically over his heart he leant close to Mili. ‘But when art thou going to give me thy heart?’
‘Behave yourself, Preet,’ Mili said, blushing and giggling. ‘Everybody’s looking at us.’
‘Preet!’ cried Gurpreet. ‘Did everyone hear? She called me Preet. Say it again. It sounds so romantic coming from your lips.’
Mili shook her head in exasperation as everybody guffawed.
‘Stop flirting with both the girls,’ said Jatin, as he pulled Gurpreet to his feet. ‘At least leave one for me.’
‘Shut up, you two,’ said Vicky, rubbing her hands together. It was getting a little nippy. She watched the boys trundle towards the trees in search of firewood. A syce appeared from the opposite direction and made his way towards the horses. He untethered them and led them away.
‘One thing I really like about Kishangarh …’ Mili was saying.
‘What?’ Vicky asked, as she watched the horses disappear behind a cluster of chinar trees.
‘There aren’t any mosquitoes here. I could never dream of sitting outside like this in Mohanagar and not be plagued by them.’
Vicky laughed. ‘Yeah, your hands and face used to get covered with those little reddish bumps.’
‘You remember the smoking incense that used to be lit every evening in the palace in silver urns? That the servants would carry from room to room? It was to keep the mosquitoes out.’
‘Really? I thought they were for the evening prayer—’ Vicky stopped speaking as the boys were back with some branches, brambles, twigs and dry leaves. She got busy helping them light a bonfire. As the fumes began to rise, the strong smell of smoke filled their nostrils and began to choke them. They wheezed and coughed and blinked back the tears. After a while the leaves began to crackle, the smoke died down and was replaced by a roaring fire.
Edging towards the hamper, Gurpreet said, ‘C’mon, let’s have some food, I’m starving. Girls, get busy.’
‘Excuse me?’ Vicky stood up with hands on her hips and glared down at Gurpreet. ‘You expect us girls to serve you?’ She shook her right hand. ‘You’ve got hands and feet. Get your own food.’
‘That’s not fair, Vicky,’ said Gurpreet. ‘We’ve been chivalrous for our part. We carried the hamper, rugs, everything, all the way from the jeep. We even went and gathered firewood. It’s only fair that you two serve the food.’
‘Yes, how is it you girls never helped us carry all this? Or collect the wood and light the fire?’ added Jatin.
‘Stop arguing. Let’s eat,’
said Mili, opening the lids of all the boxes in the hamper.
The smell of home-made food distracted everyone. There were parathas with fried potatoes, black lentils, chickpeas cooked in khada masala and loads of pickled onions. But what made Vicky’s mouth water was the sight of chargrilled chicken.
‘A meal without a non-vegetarian dish is not a proper meal,’ Vicky stated, taking a second helping of the chicken.
‘Try the dhal. It’s out of this world,’ said Mili.
‘How can you like dhal? They are all the same and so bland,’ said Vicky.
‘No they’re not,’ Mili retorted. Pointing to her plate she said, ‘This here is ma ki dhal – dark, mysterious and spicy. Then you have the yellow toor dhal which is bright and sunny, and not to forget the shy pink masoor dhal. How can you say they are all the same?’
‘You’ve lost it, Mils,’ Vicky said as she looked at Mili and shook her head. ‘You really have. Hostel food is affecting your brains.’
With a ‘huh’, Mili turned her back to Vicky and carried on eating.
‘Did anyone read the newspaper this morning?’ Gurpreet asked, looking up from his plate for a moment. ‘I don’t understand Gandhi’s stance on the war. He says he doesn’t want to raise an independent India from the ashes of Britain. Now, whoever thinks of being considerate to the enemy, other than Gandhi?’
‘But surely you don’t support that fascist Hitler?’ said Jatin.
‘No, I don’t,’ replied Gurpreet. ‘But that doesn’t mean that to fight one evil, we support another evil.’
‘Hmm. I too am beginning to lose my faith in Congress,’ said Jatin.
‘Stop talking politics,’ Mili whined. ‘It’s boring.’
‘Jatin, we need to identify the students who are serious about supporting us in our struggle and take them to meet Guruji. He wants to train some of them to make bombs.’
‘What are you two talking about?’ asked Vicky, who had been hitherto engrossed in watching a handful of ants. They had appeared out of nowhere and were laboriously moving the crumbs on her plate onto their backs. She wanted to kill them but Mili would kill her before she could do that.
After the Storm Page 9